


live a little (it's okay)

by Jenny_Jensen



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Broken couples that can only fix each other, Cult, F/F, F/M, Friendship, M/M, bughead - Freeform, mental health, the Farm, true love always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenny_Jensen/pseuds/Jenny_Jensen
Summary: It doesn’t take him long to find exactly what he needs.The Farm is not a religious group, but rather a front, for a rather lucrative scheme for selling organs on the black market.It’s sickening, and as he forwards the tapes to a waiting Jughead, he realizes that this is finally over. Betty is coming home, where she belongs.Saving her means saving Jughead, and even though his friend will never admit it, he needs to be saved. Saved from the darkness he’s been thrust into since the moment he lost her.
Relationships: Alice Cooper/Edgar Evernever, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Joaquin DeSantos/Kevin Keller
Comments: 55
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make this a oneshot, but the longer this story gets (hint, it's a roller coaster), making it into a multi-chapter story just seemed to be the better idea (thank you Alec for helping me decide, I was so torn!)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! :) See you next chapter!

* * *

**Before**

“Beautiful day, isn’t it Elizabeth?”

Her nose crinkles in disgust as the stench of an unwashed man fills her nostrils. Her mother’s new boyfriend never showers, but that’s not the strangest thing about him.

Betty’s always been a good judge of character, and she’s validated in her opinion by her lifelong best friend Jughead Jones, who has the unnatural ability to know if someone was good or bad with just a single look.

“Reading again I see,” disapproval drips from Mr. Evernever’s tone. “Ah Elizabeth, it’s time to get your head out of those books. _Girls shouldn’t read.”_

He snatches her copy of _Beloved_ by Toni Morrison from her hands, and in a move that might otherwise have been impressive, rips it in half, flinging it across the fence into the Andrews backyard.

“You fucking asshole!” She bites out.

Edgar swings his arm back.

It’s the wrong thing to do.

Somehow she’s missed the familiar sound of motorcycle engines that pollute her neighborhood on a daily basis.

She can’t miss the feral look in his usually blue eyes.

No one is allowed to touch her.

She’s grown up on the Southside, more or less, and since the fiasco with her father earlier in the year, she’s been under the constant protection of the Southside Serpents.

“Betty,”

She knows what that tone of voice means, knows what he expects of her and she obliges, moving to stand behind him and the rest of their friends.

“Is there a problem here, Sugarplum?” Fangs drawls.

Betty smiles faintly at the nickname. Nearly a lifetime of friendship, and she’s only gotten him to watch the Nutcracker once, when they were eight. But still, the endearment has stuck, and it makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

The only thing she likes better is when Jughead calls her _angel._

Edgar raises the hand he might have used to strike her in greeting. “Afternoon, gentlemen,”

“Betty?” Fangs asks again.

Jughead is staring at her expectantly.

“No, no problem,” she lies, and by the way his jaw tightens, she knows he’s pissed, but she just wants to get out of there. “Can we go now? _Please?”_

She’s gifted with a single nod.

Wordlessly, he hands her his helmet. She tries to think about the promise to get her her own as she pulls it over her head, swinging a leg across the back of his bike, waiting for him to straddle it too.

He remains staring at Edgar. Betty wonders if it’s a warning.

“Jones,” Sweet Pea calls. “let’s roll.”

Jughead seems to snap out of it, throwing his own leg over the bike, glancing back at her.

She wraps her arms around her without question.

“Don’t let go of me angel,” he says, and she clings to him a little tighter.

* * *

They only ride for five minutes.

She’s expecting some sort of outburst. She’s lied to him, and he doesn’t tolerate lying, especially when it comes to her safety.

“Off,” he demands, when the bikes come to a stop.

Betty frees her hair from the helmet, sets it on the seat as she jumps off. “Jug-”

“If he touched you, he’s dead,” Jughead warns.

“He didn’t,” she tells him.

“But he was going to.”

“I... might have talked back to him,” Betty confesses. “It doesn’t make it right, but he destroyed my book, Jughead! He ripped it in half and told me that girls shouldn’t read.”

Toni, perched on her own bike, snorts. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“I’m not really sure,” she sighs.

“I’m looking into him,” Jughead declares.

“Jug-”

“Betty, I’m looking into him,” he says again. There’s no room for argument. “I need to know who the fuck you’re living with.”

“Well I won’t have to live with him for much longer... or my mother, for that matter.”

“That’s right,” Sweet Pea grins, ruffling her hair. “it’s someone’s eighteenth birthday tomorrow.”

“Speaking of,” Jughead nods at the space behind him. “Get back on angel, I’ve got a surprise for you, but first...”

His hand disappears into the pocket of his leather, comes back with the only tie he owns.

She knows him, just as well as he knows her.

“Jug...”

“What’s the matter angel, don’t you trust me?”

“You know I do,” Betty frowns at him. “I trust you more than anything.”

He grins, beckoning her forward. “Then come here sweetheart.”

* * *

He ties it tight over her eyes, places his helmet back over her head, picks her up and places her behind him.

His friends are grinning like idiots.

_If she only knew what he has in store for her..._

“Hold on tight to me, angel,”

She does. She always does.

* * *

“Keep your eyes closed,” he directs.

She snorts, a habit she hates, but he loves, and he makes a mental note to get her to do it more often. “Juggie, I’m blindfolded.”

“So?”

_“So?_ God you’re ridiculous.”

“I resent that, Elizabeth,”

“I assumed you would, Forsyth,”

Grinning, Jughead tightens his grip on her hands, leading her forward. “Just keep your eyes closed, okay angel?”

Betty, blind as a bat, beams in his general direction. “I like it when you call me that.”

He laughs. “Do you now?”

“I’m hardly an angel though, Jughead,”

“That’s where you’re wrong Betts, that’s where you’re wrong. Eyes closed, okay?”

“I’m blindfolded Jug, why does it matter if I close my eyes?”

“Because I want this to be a surprise.”

“I know we’re at the Wyrm,”

“...How the hell did you-”

“Where else would you take me?”

“The Query?” He shrugs. “Sweet Water River, the Drive In, the Bijou...”

“All viable guesses,” Betty responds. “but this is our place. This is where our family is.”

_Family._

She might not have much of one growing up, but he can give that to her now.

Betty is his family.

“Juggie? You still with me?”

“We’re at the Wyrm,” Jughead divulges, easily falling back into their conversation. “but do you know _why_ we’re at the Wyrm?”

A moment passes between them.

“...No.”

“Good,” grinning, he ducks down, hoisting her over his shoulder. “I haven’t completely ruined the surprise then.”

Betty gasps, surprised, but she too starts laughing. It’s the happiest he’s seen her since the shit show of a confrontation with her father, Hal’s arrest and Alice’s sudden interest in some religious group simply called the Farm, and he decides in that moment that he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she stays that way.

“Jug!”

“C’mon Betts,” Jughead teases, carrying her up the stairs. “You’re gonna love this.”

* * *

“This is kind of kinky,”

“Betty,” he huffs a laugh, putting her down and she beams again, loving the sound. “How could this ever be considered kinky?”

“Well, I let you blindfold me, take me to god knows where, I know, I know, we’re at the Wyrm but still, and now I’m willingly letting you take control of my body...”

A single finger lifts her chin. She still can’t see, but she can feel the heat of his gaze as he stares down at her.

“Betts,”

“...Juggie?”

“If I wanted this to be kinky, we wouldn’t _need_ the blindfold,” he tells her, making her blush. “At least... we wouldn’t use it as a blindfold, how’s that?”

“I... um...”

“Aww, what’s the matter angel, cat got your tongue?”

He’s darkened somewhat in the last few months with his father’s death and having to take over the Serpents at just 18, and now he’s got her mess of a life to deal with too, but he takes it in stride and he’s still her very best friend.

Even if his teasing is sounding a little more like... _flirting_ lately.

She doesn’t mind. She really doesn’t. In fact, she revels in it, clings to the knowledge that in a world where no one else seems to want her, Jughead does.

And she wants him too.

“That... sounds amazing,” she admits, as bravely as she can.

He’s on her suddenly, only inches away, and she hopes with everything she has that this will be the moment he decides to kiss her.

He doesn’t.

He brushes his nose against hers, arm sliding around her waist.

“Maybe we can explore that some other time, hmm?” Jughead’s breath tickles her neck. “I have a surprise for you, angel.”

* * *

“Okay beautiful, you can take it off now,”

Her fingers jump to the back of her head, trying to undo the know he’d tied earlier. In her eagerness, she can’t quite get it.

“Easy angel, I’ve got you,”

Jughead does it for her, amused to see that even as the blindfold falls away, her eyes remain shut.

“Open your eyes for me, baby,” he whispers in her ear.

* * *

Her eyes fly open.

They’re in the space above the Wyrm. She’s seen it a few times, helping Toni carry things down to the bar, but she’s never given it much thought.

“Jug...” Betty draws out, confused.

Slowly, she turns to face him.

He’s actually down on one knee, open box in hand, looking the most nervous she’s seen since they were six, and he had to read his short story out loud to their entire first grade class.

In the box is a silver key.

“Wanna move in with me, angel?”

* * *

She’s speechless.

He’s panicking internally, wondering if he’s made a huge mistake when she suddenly launches herself at him.

Her legs are wrapped around his waist, and he loops an arm under her thighs to hold her up.

“Betts-”

Betty cuts him off with a kiss.

It’s something he’s been wanting to do since he was four, and by the way she’s kissing him back, eyes closed, hands framing his face, she’s been wanting it for just as long.

* * *

When they break apart for air, she’s breathing heavily.

“So...”

Betty cuffs him playfully. “What do you think, you idiot?”

She pecks him on the lips.

“Betts?”

“Y-Yeah Juggie?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Her eyes fill with tears.

“I wanted to say that first,” she whispers.

They kiss again.

* * *

“My mom’s gonna have a cow,”

They’re sitting on the step up that leads into to the barely functional kitchen. Both of her arms are wound around one of his, head on his shoulder.

He squeezes her knee. “Don’t think about her.”

But he knows she still is, about her mother, about her father, maybe even about her mother’s strange new boyfriend, all the people that should have cared about her, but never really did.

“You’ll be eighteen tomorrow,” Jughead reminds her. “and then you won’t belong to her anymore Betts, you’ll...”

Betty smiles shyly. “I’ll belong to you.”

He smiles too, a single thought coming to mind. _She always has._

He unclips the cuff from his wrist, fastens it to hers.

Her eyes widen. “Jug... you know what this means... right?”

He only nods.

“You’ve never cuffed anyone before,” Betty whispers.

He kisses her nose. “But you always knew I meant to cuff you, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

It’s her turn to nod.

* * *

“We’ll do all the renovations ourselves,” he declares, picking her up to spin her around.

Betty giggles. “With a little help from our old pal, Archie?”

Jughead’s eyes narrow playfully. “Are you doubting me Elizabeth?”

“Why yes I am, Forsyth,”

He growls, _growls_ , pulls her to the ground, knees straddling her torso as he pins her arms above her head with a single hand.

“Take it back,” he teases.

She beams up at him. “Never.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, leans down to kiss her, letting go of her wrists in the process.

She throws her arms around his neck, their kisses becoming frenzied.

“Oh my god!” Betty cries, breaking apart for air. “We’re doing this! We’re really doing this!”

It’s all she’s ever wanted.

Sitting up, he pulls her down onto his lap, arms wrapping around her.

“We’re doing this baby,” he mutters, lips close to her ear. “Now let’s get you home so you can get your stuff.”

* * *

His phone rings the second he pulls into her driveway.

She sighs, disappointed, and his eyes are apologetic as he parks the bike, tugging her into a side hug as he goes to answer it.

“What, Pea?” He demands.

Jughead kisses her hair, listening to their friend drone on and on about whatever the latest crisis is. When he finally hangs up, she knows he has to go.

“Baby...”

“Go,” Betty tells him.

It’s his turn to sigh. “I’m sorry Betts, I really wanted to help you...”

She pushes against his chest playfully. “You just wanted to see my underwear drawer.”

“Guilty,” Jughead laughs. “but I would have helped too.”

“Well I could always come with you...” Betty offers, hopeful.

“No,”

His gaze is hard, the way it always is when she tries to involve herself in his dwellings with the Southside.

“Jug-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of it Betts?” He cradles her face. “I don’t want you involved in this shit. You’re...”

“What Juggie?”

“You’re my light,” he tells her, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. He likes it when she wears her hair down, so she’s been trying to do it more often lately. “In a sea of darkness, you are my light, Betty Cooper, and I want you to stay that way, okay?”

He’s too sweet. Too loving. Too _good_ , even if he doesn’t think so.

“Okay,” she agrees, and kisses him softly.

“Go,” Jughead laughs, eyeing the house. “Go pack up your stuff. The sooner we can get you out of here...”

“The better,” Betty finishes.

He holds her by the back of the neck. “That’s my girl,”

She stands on her tiptoes for one last kiss. “Juggie?”

“Yeah angel?”

“I love you,”

His eyes are shinning.

“I love you, Betty Cooper,” Jughead promises. “I love you so much. Now get going baby, I’ll be back to pick you up in an hour.”

* * *

She skips inside.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to get what she needs.

What she doesn’t expect, however, is Alice to come knocking.

“Oh good,” her mother beams at the state of her disheveled bedroom. “you’re already packing, but... how did you know?”

“Know?” Betty echoes. “Know _what?_ ”

“Did Edgar tell you?” Alice sighs. “I told him you should hear it from me.”

_“Hear what?”_

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re packed,” she says. “we’ll be leaving shortly.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Betty demands, and at the sight of the small diamond on her mother’s finger, her eyes widen. “Mom... I’m packing because I’m moving in with Jughead. I’ll be eighteen tomorrow, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“You won’t be doing anything of the sort, Elizabeth,” Alice sneers. Edgar and two of his lackeys appear behind her. “Edgar and I are getting married, and you and I will be joining the Farm. Isn’t that wonderful news, darling?”

Alice stands there, watches as her seventeen year old daughter is grabbed, drugged and dragged from the house, kicking and screaming.

_“Juggie,”_ she whimpers.

Everything fades to black.

* * *

He’s late.

Her light is off, and he knows she’s probably pissed, but the book tucked safely in the back pocket of his jeans will make up for it.

He climbs through her window in a perfectly synchronized move.

“Betts...”

Her room is a mess, not very Betty like, lamp broken, mirror shattered. Her bags are there, but Betty is not.

On the ground, snapped in two, if his Serpent cuff.

Gingerly, he picks it up, tears filling his eyes.

_“No,”_ he whispers.

She’s gone.

And it’s all his fault.

* * *

**ELIZABETH KAYLEE COOPER**

**BLONDE HAIR**

**GREEN EYES**

**5”2’**

**93 LBS**

**DOB: JULY 22 ND, 2002**

**AGE NOW: 18**

* * *

It’s the same girl, a little skinnier, a hell of a lot dirtier, being dragged into the compound he just rented to the strange man and his over smiling, blonde haired wife.

He puts the phone to his ear without a second thought.

A man answers on the first ring. “What?”

“Is this...” He squints to read the name at the bottom of the flyer. “Jughead Jones?”

“Yeah,” his reply is short. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I think... I think I might have found your girl,”

* * *

The Serpents remain silent.

In the year since she’s disappeared, so many things have changed.

Fangs bravely stands, all eyes on him.

“Send me,” he declares. “I’ll get her back for you Jug, just send me.”

* * *

“Josiah Stone?”

He stands, shaking the man’s hand with a begrudging smile. “Father Evernever, I presume?”

“Yes,” he gestures to the door he just came out of. “Let’s take a tour, shall we?”

* * *

She’s the first thing he sees.

She’s broken, bruised badly, being held up by two burly men, and it takes everything Fangs has in him to keep from grabbing her and running.

“Pay her no mind,” Mr. Evernever says, dismissing the entire situation with a simple wave of his hand. “My daughter is... troubled, to say the least.”

“She’s your daughter?”

“Well, stepdaughter,” he shrugs. “I’m afraid that my vision of a perfect family are very far off. Elizabeth has many demons that she refuses to face. Let’s continue, shall we?”

She doesn’t notice him, and as much as it hurts, he knows it’s for the best.

He’s doing this for her. He can’t let her blow his cover.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chapter 2 Day!
> 
> This story is a roller coaster guys, there's going to be a lot of ups and downs, but I think the entire idea is that Jughead and Betty are so broken, they can only fix each other.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)

* * *

It doesn’t take him long to find exactly what he needs.

The Farm is not a religious group, but rather a front, for a rather lucrative scheme for selling organs on the black market.

It’s sickening, and as he forwards the tapes to a waiting Jughead, he realizes that this is finally over. Betty is coming home, where she belongs.

Saving her means saving Jughead, and even though his friend will never admit it, he needs to be saved. Saved from the darkness he’s been thrust into since the moment he lost her.

* * *

It’s amazing, he thinks, as he watches the older man’s face carefully, just how far someone can be not to even have an ounce of remorse for their own actions.

Edgar shoves the tablet back across the surface of his old wooden desk, stoic.

“Where did you get this?” He demands.

Fangs, hidden behind the rest of the Serpents surrounding him, steps forward, grinning cockily. “Father Evernever.”

 _“Brother Josiah,”_ Edgar grits out, as recognition floods through him. “I knew you weren’t a true believer.”

“Well you believe in some fucked up shit,” he replies bluntly.

He shoots Fogarty a single look, and the man falls back into line without question. His old friend is a great liar, almost _too_ believable. Perhaps if life had dealt a different hand, he could have been a detective mastering in undercover work, but instead he is a Serpent with a gift that he is more than willing to let the Serpent King use again and again.

This time was personal. This time, Fangs volunteered himself before he could even ask.

To give him some credit, Edgar Evernever doesn’t let on just how scared he is.

“What do you want?” He asks. “To make this all go away, _what do you want?”_

He casts a glance to Toni, at his right, and then Sweet Pea, standing to his left, and simultaneously, they nod, as do the rest of the Serpents. Completely united.

“You know exactly what I want.”

The older man sighs, running a hand over his face. “I should have guessed. That is more than a fair trade, I assure you. Sister Elizabeth has been... difficult, to say the least.”

He knows he shouldn’t react, but he can’t help it. It’s _her_ , it’s about her, and he’ll do every damn thing he can to protect her now, because he didn’t protect her before.

He swings his arm back, smacking Edgar Evernever across the face, scraping his pale skin with the rings adorning his fingers of his right hand, hard enough to draw blood.

_“Mr. Jones-”_

“Don’t call her that,” Jughead bites out, rage coursing through his veins. “She’s not one of you. She’s never been one of you fucking Farmies.”

Edgar doesn’t object to his words, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s the one with the power thanks to the videos Fangs snagged during his time with the cult, or because his girl managed to keep her wits about her and annoy the hell out of _Father Evernever._

Either way, he wins, so it really doesn’t matter.

Breaking their eye contact like the coward he is, Edgar dials a few numbers into the phone on his desk and begins speaking into the receiver. “Bring her in.”

* * *

The light hurts her eyes. It’s bright. Too bright.

Out of habit, she shies away from the man about to enter her supply closet size of a room, arms wrapping around herself, hands cupping her elbows like she can somehow sooth the marks left from the many times she’s been dragged out before.

“P-Please,” she whimpers.

Her throat is dry, voice hoarse, lips cracked.

Betty Cooper is broken.

“Get up,” Brother Zakaria hisses, starting towards her without mercy.

She might be broken, but she isn’t about to go down without a fight.

Using the last of her strength, she kicks him _right where it hurts_ , trying not to think about just how badly she’d hurt Sweet Pea when she was fifteen and he decided it would be a good idea to teach her how to fight.

It’s her defense now, the only one she has, and while it always ends badly, the small amount of satisfaction it gives her is almost worth it.

And for a moment, but only a moment, before retribution comes, she can picture the grin on _his_ face, the laughter in his eyes as their taller friend dropped to his knees, covering his _goods_ with both hands as he groaned.

Proud. He was proud of her.

 _“Matthew,”_ Brother Zachariah growls to Father Evernever’s Third in Command. Blood tricks from her nose as he backhands her in retaliation. “Bring the syringe.”

“N-No, please...”

But it’s too late. The last thing she feels is a slight prick to her neck before she falls to the cold, hard ground.

* * *

 _This is it,_ he thinks, as the door finally opens. He’s going to get his girl back.

* * *

She’s thin. Too thin.

Her hair is loose around her shoulders, tangled and somewhat matted. Her homemade cotton dress hangs off her shoulders. Bruises decorate her arms and legs.

Blood drips from her nose like a faucet.

His already black heart turns to stone.

She’s slumped between the two men holding her up, and as he approaches them, they step away, avoiding eye contact.

 _Good._ He thinks. They should be afraid.

He catches her before she can fall forward, placing a hand beneath her chin to bring her gaze to his. Those eyes, those beautiful green eyes that have haunted his dreams every night for the last year are all but dead.

His Betty is gone.

His blood boils.

She’s swaying, he realizes, and he quickly moves his hands to her shoulders to steady her. He’s subdued enough people to know what’s going on.

“You _drugged_ her?” Jughead hisses.

His tone of voice seems to stir something within her.

“...Juggie?”

Her skinny arms wrap around his waist, sliding inside of his unzipped jacket. She clings to him like he’s a lifeline, and there’s only a beat of silence before he’s hugging her back.

_“Betts,”_

He sees Sweet Pea and Toni exchange a brief look from the corner of his eye, something passing between the two of them. It’s too quick to really catch, but he wonders if it could be _relief_ , reassurance that the boy that used to read and write, the boy that spent hours in his best friend’s living room playing video games while the same girl in his arms sat beside him, laughing through the gorier parts of _Grand Theft Auto_ is still in there, _somewhere._

He’s not that boy anymore.

How can he be? That boy let her down. That boy had an inkling of what was to come, and he did nothing to stop it.

He didn’t protect her then, but he can protect her now, even if it’s from himself.

Gently, he pushes her away.

Even in her strung out state, her face falls in disappointment and it _fucking kills him._

“Get her out of here,” Jughead demands, tone void of any emotion. Hitting Edgar was bad enough, well-deserved and worth several repeats, but not part of the original plan. “Now.”

Fangs and Joaquin take the hint, stepping up to Betty, who cowers from them on instinct. Fangs is gentle, a hand on the small of her back that Jughead wants to cut off, despite knowing his fellow Serpent is only trying to help. His jealously isn’t soothed by the sight of Joaquin sweeping her off her feet to carry her away.

It has to be done. She isn’t steady enough to walk out on her own.

_“Elizabeth?”_

“Sister Alice,” Edgar moves to slid an arm around her waist, but she pushes him away. “Alice, darling-”

“My daughter,” Alice watches as Betty is carried away, Joaquin never faltering even with the unexpected interruption. “Where are they taking my daughter, Edgar?”

“Well you see, Sister Alice-”

He feels a pang of something he can’t quite place at the sight of the woman that used to insult him well with a quick witted tongue. Alice is... _different_ , not broken like his golden haired angel, but different.

He can’t help her though, he won’t, not unless Betty asks him to, though he still knows her well enough to know that she won’t.

Alice made her own bed the moment she decided to become Mrs. Edgar Evernever.

_“Where is my daughter?”_

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Jughead snaps, the unresolved anger over just how badly Alice had treated Betty as they grew up coming back in full force. “She’s not yours. She was never yours. If anything, she’s mine now.”

Alice’s nostrils flare. “Jughead-”

“Mr. Jones made an offer that I could not refuse,” Edgar’s arm slides around her waist again, pulling her to his side. “Elizabeth will be _fine_ , Sister Alice. As I’m sure you are well aware, she never could bring herself to believe in the divinity that is the-”

“Shut up,” Sweet Pea speaks out of turn, but Jughead doesn’t cut him off. “For the love of whatever the fuck you believe in, _shut up._ Like the boss said, Betty is no longer your concern, _Mrs. Cooper_. If you’re actually worried about her, and I find that very hard to believe, by the way, I promise she’ll be a hell of a lot safer with us than she ever was with you. Jones, can we roll now?”

Trying to keep from smiling, he gives a short nod, and his Serpents begin to file out accordingly.

“But... Betty...”

“Will finally have the chance to be _happy_ , Alice,” Jughead says, refusing to turn around and look at her. “She’s mine now, and I’m going to spend the rest of my goddamned life trying to make her dreams come true.”

Alice stamps her foot. “I want my daughter.”

“Why?”

“I... What?”

_“Why do you want her?”_

“I...”

He laughs. It’s a bitter sound. “You never could come up with a believable response, could you, Alice? Wanna hear mine? I want Betty because she’s _good_ , because she’s beautiful and kind, because she has the biggest heart out anyone I have ever met. She’s everything I’ve _ever_ wanted, the single light in all of my darkness and now that I’ve found her, I’m fucking taking her.”

Sweet Pea and Toni are waiting for him, but he’s not done. Not yet.

“She’s mine,” he repeats, and the more selfish part of himself is jumping for joy because it’s finally the truth. Betty is _his_ , and he’ll be damned if he loses her again. “If you even _think_ about looking for her, I’ll make sure you regret it, and I’m not the only one willing to do so _Mrs. Cooper,_ keep that in mind.”

He’s not surprised that she doesn’t respond. Alice could claim she loved Betty till the cows came home and still never mean it.

_Good riddance._

“Let’s roll.”

“Mr. Jones,”

He jerks away before the cult leader can touch him. “What?”

“I’m assuming you’ll... hold up to your end of the bargain?”

Stone-faced, Jughead hands him the tablet.

Edgar bows his head. “Thank you.”

* * *

It’s only when they’re well out of earshot does Toni dare to smile.

“Oh no! We forgot to mention all the copies we made!”

A chuckle bubbles deep from Sweet Pea’s throat. “Those sick fucks are going to get exactly what’s coming to them.”

“Only when she’s ready,” Jughead says, and again, there is a glimmer of the boy he was before the day he arrived to get her, only to find her already gone. “Betty makes the final call on this one.”

* * *

_She’s mine now._

Even in her haze, the words ring loud and clear. She lets her heavy head fall against the leather clad shoulder of her old friend Joaquin as a single thought comes to mind.

_Oh Juggie, I always have been._

* * *

Her body aches.

Joaquin is trying to be gentle, that she knows, but every careful step he takes only seems to make her ache even more.

“Gotta do somethin’ about your nose, sugarplum,” he says gently, and then Fangs is there, covering her face with a red bandana as he pinches her nostrils together.

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper,” he tells her.

She almost smiles at the honesty.

“You’re safe Betty,” Joaquin promises, holding her a little closer. “You’re safe now.”

Betty wants to thank him, wants to ask where Jughead is, wants to ask how they found her, _something_ , but her eyes are growing heavy and she knows she won’t be conscious for much longer.

“Betty,” his tone is a warning. “Stay awake.”

“I don’t want to,” she admits sadly. “I’m... tired. So tired.”

Fangs eyes her warily. “Have they done this to you before?”

She barely manages a nod.

“Fuck,”

“Don’t worry sugarplum,” Joaquin carries her to a sleek black car, parked just outside of the Farm’s compound. Fangs opens the door, and he lays her down in the plush backseat. “We’ll get ‘em. Sleep now. You’re safe.”

Betty catches his sleeve, stopping him from closing her inside. “Wh-Where’s Jug?”

“He’s comin’ doll, don’t worry. He’ll be here soon.”

“...’Quin?”

“Yeah sugarplum?”

“T...Tell him I love him,” she requests, eyes lulling shut. “Tell him I always loved him.”

* * *

He almost panics when he doesn’t see her.

But the sight of Fangs and Joaquin standing on either side of his car, keeping close watch, calms him enough to realize that his girl is probably, in fact, passed out in the backseat.

“You drivin?” He asks, already passing his keys to Toni, who beams, pleased to drive the Bentley, but given so little opportunity to do so. “And T...”

“I know, I know,” Toni’s eyes soften as she casts a glance at Betty. “I’ll go slow.”

Sweet Pea claims shotgun as the rest of the Serpents descend on their bikes. Joaquin remains in place, looking torn.

Jughead yanks a hand through his hair, exhausted.

“What?” He grits out.

“It’s...” Joaquin sighs. “Betty asked me to tell you something, that’s all.”

His heart hammers inside of his chest.

“What?” Jughead demands, a little too eagerly.

His friend sighs again, glaring at the ground.

“Quit beating around the bush and tell me, asshole, what the fuck did she say?”

“She said... that she loves you,” Joaquin admits. “She said that she always have.”

Elizabeth Kaylee Cooper, the only light in his sea of darkness. He wants to rejoice at her words, wants to revel in them, but he can’t.

He doesn’t deserve her love. He never has, and he never will.

“Oh.”

Joaquin looks like he wants to sock him. _“Oh?”_

“’Quin-”

“You find out that the girl you’ve been obsessing over since kindergarten is in love with you, and the only thing you can say is _oh?”_

“Jug,” Toni warns, before he can even try to hit him.

Joaquin takes a step towards his bike.

“Jug,”

“What?”

“She’s been through a lot,” he says, as if any of them need the reminder. “and it might be nice for her to have some... reassurance.”

He wants to hate Joaquin, if only for being completely and 100% right.

But he can’t admit it.

Because the last time he told her how he felt, she was gone within the hour, and he can’t fathom the idea of losing her again, not when he’s just gotten her back.

“She knows how I feel about her,” Jughead grumbles, wrenching the back door open.

Or, at least, he hopes she does.

* * *

Betty is a real life angel.

Even with the dried blood crusted around her nostrils, the bruises covering her pale skin, and the stench from her homespun dress, she is the living embodiment of someone that should be wearing a halo.

And she’s _his_ angel now.

He makes a silent promise to himself. He will not let the darkness of his world touch her.

He can’t. He won’t.

* * *

He’s careful as he slides in beside her, drags her upper body so it’s strewn across his lap, untangling her blonde tresses with quick, nimble fingers.

The smell bothers him, and he wonders when the last time she got to shower was. There’s rope burns around her wrists and ankles like she was tied down, and his stone heart completely crumbles.

They didn’t take care of her, not that he thought they would, but they didn’t give her the opportunity to take care of herself either.

So he will.

Betty whines in her drug-induced sleep, not at ease, and it only makes him hold onto her tighter.

 _“No!”_ She cries, and suddenly lashes out at him.

Sweet Pea glances back at them in alarm.

Jughead makes a point not to cover the scratch against his cheek with his hand, threading his fingers through her hair again as he forces her head into the space between his head and shoulder.

“Shh,” he sooths, in the calmest voice he can muster. “Baby, it’s okay. Shh.”

“J...Juggie...”

“I’m here,” he kisses her forehead. “I’m right here angel. Sleep Betts, you’re safe now. Sleep.”

Betty stills against him.

“You’re safe baby,”

* * *

“What are you gonna do, Jug?”

“Get her upstairs and in the shower,” he replies evenly, stepping out of the backseat with Betty in his arms. “Do me a favor and get the inside of the car detailed, would you, T? Just... don’t tell Betty, the smell isn’t her fault.”

Toni throws him an unimpressed look. As his second-in-command and best friend, she’s the only one who can get away with questioning every move he makes. “What are you going to _do_ , Jug?”

“What do you fucking think I’m gonna do, Toni?” Jughead snaps, holding onto her a little tighter. “I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to protect her. She’s mine now.”

“So you keep saying,” she sighed. “but Jughead, what does that _mean_ , exactly?”

“What do you _think_ it means?”

Toni held her hands up in surrender. _“I_ know what it means. The question is, do you?”

Of course he fucking knows what it means. He wouldn’t have said it otherwise.

“Wash the car Toni,” he barks, heading towards the entrance. “and for fuck’s sake, don’t bother me for the rest of the week unless it’s an emergency.”

The Wyrm’s closed, will be until he decides to open it again. The loft above the old bar is far enough away to give them more than enough privacy, he wants her first few days home to go off without a hitch.

* * *

“Betty,”

She doesn’t move.

“Baby, c’mon,” he coaxes gently. “I need to see those pretty green eyes.”

She groans, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

 _“Betty!”_ Jughead barks.

Her eyes fly open.

She starts to panic, and he’s quick to sink to the ground with her still in his arms, pressing his palm to her cheek.

“Betty, sweetheart, it’s me,” he tells her. “It’s Jughead baby, you’re not at the Farm, you’re not with your mom or Edgar, you’re with me. I’ve got you angel, I’ve got you.”

Slowly, she comes back to him.

“Jug,” she whispers.

And then she’s leaning in for a kiss.

He turns, giving her his cheek instead. As much as he wants to, _he can’t._

He hopes, prays she can find _some way_ to understand.

Her face falls, but she continues to speak, staring up at him like he might disappear at any second.

“Am I dreaming?”

“No angel,” he laughs. “You’re not dreaming, I’m real, I’m here.”

She pinches him.

_“Ow,”_

Betty gasps. “You’re real.”

“I just told you I was, why can’t you believe me-”

She throws her arms around his neck.

It’s the way she clung to him the night her dad was arrested after trying to kill her and her mother, as the rest of the world moved around them. Sirens. Alice’s grief stricken cries. Sheriff Keller’s voice, telling them that it would _be okay._

He was wrong.

It wasn’t okay then, and it’s not okay now, but it _could be._

Something settles in his stomach, something he hasn’t felt since the night he lost her.

_Hope._

Elizabeth Kaylee Cooper makes him feel hopeful.

“You found me,” she whispers.

“Hey,” Jughead pushes her back to meet his gaze. “Always baby, I’ll always find you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Day Three!
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments! :)
> 
> I'm going to TRY and post a little earlier tomorrow, or it might be later... BECAUSE I'M FINALLY GETTING MY RESCUE DOG HOME TOMORROW, and I'm probably going to never wanna leave her side again.
> 
> This story, this chapter in paticular IS a roller coaster, but a happy ending, and maybe the death fo Edgar, or at least the creepy man spending the rest of his life in jail, with a visit from Betty and Jug is guaranteed :)
> 
> Thank you again for reading! :)

* * *

He doesn’t let her kiss him.

It hurts. More than she can even fucking say.

“Do you wanna-”

“Shower?” Betty finishes, and nods gratefully. “Please.”

“Okay,” Jughead agrees, carrying her further into the loft she used to visit on a daily basis. “Do you uh... remember where the bathroom is?”

She nods again, and he puts her down.

It’s a mistake.

Her legs still aren’t steady, drugs and god knows whatever else the Farmies have given her still in effect. The second he lets go, she crashes to the ground, a tangled mess of arms and legs.

“Fuck, Betts,”

His hands are on either side of her body, pulling her back up, supporting her weight as she trembles.

“Baby,” he mutters. “Fuck, angel, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

And then he’s cradling her to his chest, fingers threading through her hair, mumbling something she can’t quite catch, but she’s still happy to hear it.

So maybe he doesn’t want to kiss her. While she doesn’t understand his reasoning, he’s there and he’s right, he has her now, and she doubts he’ll be letting her go.

* * *

“You didn’t finish the loft,” she says, glancing around. It looks the same as it did the last time she saw it, and it’s strangely comforting.

Jughead doesn’t look at her.

“I told you we were going to do it together.”

He stands with her in his arms and carries her further into the apartment.

His bedroom is sparse, minus a mattress, blankets and sheets messily strewn across it, and a cardboard box that is falling apart, filled to the brim with his clothes.

He’s been living like this for the last year. For her.

Her heart aches.

He grabs two shirts at random, both symbolized with an _S_ , and sweeps into the adjacent bathroom.

It still has the clawfoot tub, partially impractical, but she still loves it.

“Do you think you can stand?”

She shakes her head. Her legs feel like jello.

“I should call Toni,” Jughead sighs. “We need to get you into the tub, but...”

Betty clings to him a little tighter. “Why can’t you help me?”

He stares at her for several seconds.

“Do you... _want_ me to help you, Betty?”

* * *

He’s wanted to see her like this for so long, _but not like this._

She’s beautiful. She could be at her absolute worst and still be the most beautiful girl in the world.

But her body is bruised, broken, and the very sight of her exposed legs makes him want to bash his head into the wall.

_He let this happen._

He didn’t protect her.

“Juggie,”

Jughead’s eyes snap to her.

“Please,” Betty begs. “I need you.”

* * *

He makes no ceremony of removing her awful clothing. He rips the dress in half, tosses it into waiting wastebasket, along with her stained cotton bra and underwear.

He doesn’t look at her once as he gently pulls his ancient t-shirt over her head to cover her once more.

She sits on the old counter, watching him fill the tub, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature.

Picking her up again, he sets her in the tub.

* * *

His t-shirt on her can’t be considered modest.

It clings to her beautiful curves, cups her heaving breasts as the water washes over them, doesn’t do a damn thing to hide what’s right between those gorgeous legs.

He’s rock hard. He wants her, more than he can even _fucking say._

But it’s nice to take care of her too, rubbing a soap covered wash cloth against her bruised skin, freeing her hair from tangles with a handful of conditioner.

He won’t let her down again.

* * *

The bath water is a disturbing shade of brown when he finally pulls her from the tub, patting her dry with a fluffy towel he pulled from the closet that needs both a coat of paint and a new door.

He still doesn’t look at her, peeling the sopping shirt from her body, replacing it with a dry one.

He carries her back to the bedroom, lays her down amongst the pillows and blankets that smell like him, tugs the covers up to her chin.

Gently, he pets her hair back.

“Get some sleep, okay?”

_That’s it?_

* * *

She grabs his hand, yanks him back with a surprising amount of force.

He falls onto the bed beside her. “Betts-”

Using what appears to be the last of her strength, she straddles his lap, holds him down by the shoulders and presses her lips to his.

It’s as beautiful as the first time she kissed him.

* * *

“Betts,” He rasps, trying to squirm away. “Betts, baby, _stop!”_

He indulges her for another few seconds and then stops, spinning her around so her back hits the mattress, arms pinned above her head.

“Juggie...”

He seems to realize himself and lets go of her altogether, throwing himself off the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Jughead says, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry Betty, I just... get some sleep, okay? I’m gonna order some food. How does Pop’s sound?”

Betty nods woundedly. “That sounds great.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, hovering his body over hers. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay baby? I’m gonna take care of you.”

She reaches for his hand again, relieved when he gives her a long squeeze back.

“I know you are,”

Jughead cradles her face. “Get some sleep angel, you’re safe now.”

She lets him tuck her back in, smiles faintly when he pulls the blankets up to her chin. He hesitates for only a moment before ducking down, kissing her forehead.

“Jug,”

“Yeah?”

“...I love you,” she confesses.

He doesn’t say it back.

He stares at her for several seconds, looking torn, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, but _he never says it back._

Instead, he leaves, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

* * *

She doesn’t fall asleep, she _cries herself to sleep_ and it fucking kills him.

He should have said it back. He should, but _he can’t._

* * *

The drugs make her sleep through dinner. He can’t stomach the idea of food, and puts it downstairs in the Wyrm’s fridge.

* * *

Sleep doesn’t come easily.

* * *

_“Give up on him Elizabeth,” Edgar advises, looming over her._

_She’s been bound to the bed. Drugged again._

_“He’s not good,” he hisses. “he’s not pure, he’ll send you straight to hell. **Let him go.”**_

_“Never,” she whispers._

_She’ll never let him go._

_Edgar strikes her._

**_“Let him go!”_ ** _He commands. “You’ll never see him again, so **let him go!”**_

* * *

She screams.

* * *

_“Jug!”_

* * *

He comes running, nearly kicking the door down in his haste to get to her.

She’s curled up in a ball, sobbing, her back to him, sobbing furiously. He reaches for her, but she jerks away.

“Betts,” Jughead pulls on her shoulder. “Betty, sweetheart, it’s just a dream-”

Betty is still crying when she lashes out at him for the second time, scratching his other cheek.

He’s angry, but not at her. At them, Edgar, Alice, the Farmies, whoever fucking _hurt_ her.

“Baby,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Baby, wake up, it’s not real. You’re not there anymore, you’re here, _with me.”_

“Jug...” She whimpers. “I need Jug...”

“I’m here angel, open your eyes and look at me. I’m right here with you.”

Betty tries to wrench away from him.

_“Betty!”_

Her eyes fly open.

“J-Jug?”

Jughead nods once. “I’m right here. Breathe Betts, keep breathing and look at me. I’m here angel, I’m right here with you.”

He holds his arms out, ready to take her, but her eyes cut to the scratches on his cheeks, the ones she left, and she shrinks further away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Oh my god Juggie, I’m so fucking sorry.”

* * *

She won’t let him hold her.

It’s physically _killing_ her to keep such a distance from him, her safety net, her anchor, but it’s the only way she can protect him.

The time at the Farm changed her.

She’s crazy, and she wonders just how long it will take for Jughead to realize it too, and finally give up on her.

* * *

They spend the rest of the night not speaking, not moving, not sleeping, merely stealing secretive, longing glances at one another when they think the other isn’t looking.

It’s a really long night.

* * *

Toni waltzes in without knocking. “Good morning!”

Jughead glares at her from the couch, bleary eyed. “I thought I told you-”

“Blah, blah, blah,” she holds up two large shopping bags, filled to the brim with new clothes. “Cher went a little overboard, but she wanted to make sure Betty would have everything she needs... how is she?”

He sighs, dragging a hand across his face. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue.”

* * *

“I want her back T, I just want her back.”

She can’t see Toni’s face, but with her ear pressed against the bedroom door, she can _hear_ the disappointment in her friend’s response.

“You _have_ her back Jug.”

Betty imagines him shaking his head.

“She’s so fucking broken,” Jughead says. “That girl in there... that’s not my Betty, Toni, she’s...”

“A shell?”

“Yeah...”

“She was gone for a year,” Toni’s voice in gentle, soothing, the way it always was even when they were kids. “We don’t know what happened to her, but whatever happened, it was probably pretty fucking traumatic.”

“She won’t even let me hold her!” He snaps.

“...Did she do that to your face?”

Betty digs her nails into the palms of her hands.

_Now everyone will know I’m crazy too._

“...She had a nightmare,” he sighs. “it wasn’t her fault.”

His words stir something in her.

_Does he really believe that?_

“Of course it wasn’t,” Toni agrees. “Jug, don’t take it personally. Betty probably doesn’t know _what_ to think right now. She must be terrified.”

_Oh Toni,_ Betty thought, creeping away from the door. _You have no fucking idea._

* * *

“She has nothing to be scared of!”

_“Don’t,”_ Toni warns, fixing him with a glare than can put even himself, the Serpent King, to shame. “Don’t try to dismiss or belittle her feelings. She was hurt, she was fucked with, she _needs_ you right now.”

“She has me,” Jughead sneers. “She’s always fucking had me!”

His best friend sighs. “Does she know that?”

He thinks back to the night before, the way her face fell when he rejected her. It wasn’t her fault, it could never _be_ her fault, but kissing Betty...

It just reminds him of all the ways he’d fucked up and let her down.

“I was gonna ask if I could see her, but I can tell that neither of you are ready for that,” Toni stands to go. “Jug, just remember... you’re not the same either.”

“Toni.”

She pauses in the doorway.

Jughead sighs, raking a hand through his unkempt hair. “What... What do I do?”

“Just love her, Jug,” Toni replies, smiling softly. “It’s all you can do.”

"Oh Toni," he laughs. "I always fucking have."

* * *

She feigns being asleep.

He slips in without knocking, not that he has to, it’s _his_ loft, hesitantly perching at the edge of the mattress.

It’s only when she feels his knuckles brush the side of her face does she dare to open her eyes, the smallest of smiles tugging at the ends of her lips.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hey,” Jughead responds, fingers tangling in her blonde tresses. “Toni uh... brought some clothes for you... Cheryl went a little overboard.”

The mention of her cousin’s name tugs at her heartstrings. “Doesn’t she always?”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah...”

Her stomach growls.

“You need to eat,” Jughead says, standing up. Betty catches his hand, and he gives her another long squeeze. “I left our takeout from Pop’s in the fridge downstairs... why don’t you get dressed while I go get it?”

She doesn’t want him to leave.

“Juggie...”

Suddenly, she’s in his arms, wrapped up in a bone crushing hug, and she relishes in the safety of his embrace.

“Two minutes,” he promises, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be back in two minutes angel, no more, no less. By the time you pull your shirt over your head, I’ll be back, okay? And then we can eat and... talk.”

Betty stiffens. “Talk?”

Jughead nods slowly. “Yeah Betts, talk. We uh, we have a lot to talk about sweetheart, but there’s something you need to know.”

_Dear god,_ Betty thinks, and her nails dig further into her palms behind his back. _He’s moved on. That’s why he didn’t want to kiss me._

She never expected him to wait for her.

The thought still causes what’s left of her heart to shatter into a million tiny pieces, and she waits on baited breaths.

“I’ve got you, okay?” He mutters. “Whatever happens next, I’ve got you.”

* * *

_I’ve got you._

What he really means by that is _I love you, I’ve always loved you_ , but he can’t bring himself to say the words aloud.

* * *

She chooses a green dress to match her eyes, but standing in the mirror, she doesn’t feel pretty.

She can’t hide the bruises decorating her body, her nose is black and blue, and there’s a haunting vacancy in her once vibrant irises. Edgar got exactly what he wanted. She doesn’t know who she is anymore.

_Or does she?_

“Angel?” Jughead calls. “Food’s ready.”

She’s not an angel.

She’s a demon.

Betty picks up the hairbrush sitting on the bathroom cabinet, hurls it at the reflective surface, just so she doesn’t have to see the girl staring back at her.

* * *

_“Jesus fucking Christ Betty!”_

By the way she shrinks away from him, he immediately knows he’s said the wrong thing, but he’s _scared,_ terrified, not of her, but for her.

He’ll never let anyone hurt her again, even herself.

She fights him when he grabs hold of her. Her attempts to get away do little to deter him as he sinks to the ground with her in his arms.

“Let me go!” Betty screams. “I don’t want to hurt you Jug!”

“You _are_ hurting me!” Jughead snaps.

She stops struggling.

“H-How?” Betty rasps.

He wants to laugh. Does she really not know?

Her question makes his grip tighten, but she’s not fighting him anymore, and her head falls into the junction between his ear and shoulder blade where it always used to every time he held her when she cried, so he takes it as a win, fingers knotting in her hair as he rocks her back and forth.

* * *

“If you hurt, I hurt Betts,” Jughead says, and it’s as simple as that.

* * *

She lets him hold her.

Her eyes don’t light up at the sight of the vanilla milkshake from Pop’s, and it’s slightly disappointing, hut he tries not to let it show, deciding instead that this is something they need to work on, and they can do it together.

She’s curled up on his lap, head still on his shoulder, his arms are around her, and despite the bruises covering her body, her taunt frame and fear of everything surrounding her, he’s never felt calmer.

Because _he has her now._ He has her, she’s safe with him, she’s _back_ , and he has her.

“I’ve got you Betts,” he mutters, as she stares back at him vacantly. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

“I want you to talk to me,” he says.

Betty freezes in his arms.

Talk? _She can’t._

“No,”

“Betty-”

“Jug, I said _no.”_

“You just destroyed a fucking mirror,” Jughead reminds her, frowning. “When I got to you, you acted like you didn’t know who I was. Where did you go Betts? What were you thinking?”

It’s the way he says it, _what were you thinking_ , and while some part of her knows he doesn’t mean it like _that_ , it stills _hurts her_ , and she jerks away from him.

“Betty...”

He reaches for her again.

Betty steps away from him.

“I’m sorry,” she hisses, and he flinches. “I’m sorry that I’m such a fucking problem for you, Jughead.”

_“Betty,”_ Jughead’s tone is a warning. “Don’t-”

“Well it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Betty demands, starting for the bedroom. He’s quick to follow her, and she can’t decide if she’s annoyed or relieved. “You shouldn’t have come back for me Jug, you should have left me there to rot.”

* * *

He grabs her.

He doesn’t mean to be so rough as he slams her against the wall, caging his arms on either side of her to prevent an escape.

“Is that really what you think?” He hisses.

He wants to hit something.

_He would never leave her._ Not again.

“Yes,” Betty replies, stone faced. “And I’m pretty sure it’s what you think too. _I’m not your Betty,_ remember?”

“Why the fuck were you ease dropping on me, Betts?”

Jughead gives into his need to punch, denting the wall above her head.

It’s the wrong thing to do and he fucking _hates_ himself for it.

She ducks from under his arm, runs for the bedroom, slams the old door shut. He’s quick to follow her, banging against the wood.

“Betty.”

“G-Go away Jug,” she whispers, and the image of her tear stained face fucking _kills him._ “Leave me alone... Please.”

Jughead hesitates.

He’ll do anything for her, be anything for her, protect her from everything.

Even if it’s from himself.

Swiping a hand across his tear filled eyes, he walks away.

* * *

By _leave me alone_ , she means _don’t_ , but he does, and she cries herself to sleep for the second night in a row.

* * *

_I’m not your Betty._

He’s not angry that she ease dropped on his conversation with Toni, he’s mad that she heard the wrong part.

Even broken, bloodied and bruised, she’s still his Betty, she’ll always be his, and there’s only one way he can prove that to her.

* * *

Slowly, he opens the door.

She doesn’t stir, and he’s grateful. She’s exhausted. How much sleep she had been permitted at the Farm is one of the many things he’s thinking about.

It’s in the rickety bedside table at her left, the one he dragged in the day after she disappeared. The loft looks exactly as it did when he brought her there, minus a few pieces of essential furniture.

He would have gladly lived like a hermit for the rest of his life, because he wasn’t going to fix up the apartment without her.

Carefully, Jughead pulls out his mended bracelet.

Toni had it fixed for him, he’s not sure when, but he came home one day to find it sitting in his downstairs office.

He hasn’t worn it since the day he gave it to her, hasn’t _wanted_ to wear it because it’s hers now.

He brushes a finger down her cheek.

Betty almost smiles in her sleep.

His heart becomes a little less black at the sight.

Gently, he lifts her arm, wraps the cuff around it, fastens it into place.

“You’re mine, baby,” he mutters, so low, he hopes she doesn’t hear it, because now is not the time for him to be so possessive. “Always and forever Betts, it’s you and me.”

* * *

She feels a sweet kiss being pressed to her forehead, but she’s too tired to open her eyes.

It’s _something._

_Always and forever Betts._

_It’s you and me._

_You’re mine._

She mumbles a sleepy _I love you_ in response, though he doesn’t say it back, but when she wakes up, she’s wearing the bracelet she lost when Edgar and his goonies abducted her from her bedroom, _his_ bracelet, with his initials on it and everything, and she slowly comes to the realization that even if Jughead can’t bring himself to say it to her face, or when she’s conscious, she still belongs to him.

And it’s a damn good thing, because he belongs to her too, and she’s not giving him up without a fight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

* * *

They dance around each other for days.

Jughead never mentions leaving the loft, the bar stays quiet, and she spends most of her days trying to catch up on sleep.

He orders food from her favorite places, serves her in bed, has one of the Serpents bring it up, but he doesn’t invite them in, doesn’t permit her to speak to anyone.

* * *

She likes the clothes Toni and Cheryl got for her, appreciates them, but still prefers Jughead’s soft, warn t-shirts to the confines of starchy new jeans and sweaters.

Jughead comes through the bedroom to use the bathroom, sees her sitting cross legged on the bed, wearing nothing _but_ his shirt, and almost smiles.

“You’re beautiful, Betts,” he tells her, before the door closes behind him.

* * *

He hates sleeping on the couch, hates being away from her, but she needs space. At least he _thinks_ she needs space, so he keeps his distance while also keeping a close eye on her.

It’s extremely confusing, slightly heartbreaking, but he loves her, and he’ll do anything for her.

* * *

Betty hates the distance between them, hates how he can never look her in the eye, hates how he refuses to kiss her.

Why won’t he kiss her?

She looks down at the cuff on her wrist and sighs. She might belong to him, she might be his, but right now, she feels like she’s nothing.

* * *

She hears _Pulp Fiction_ playing from the living room.

She smiles, remembering all the times she’s been forced to watch it before, pretending to be cold so he’d put his arm around her, pretending to fall asleep so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

Without a second thought, she gets out of bed, grabs one of his flannels from the floor and walks into the living room.

He’s stretched out across a sagging couch that’s seen better days, the same couch he’s been sleeping on every night instead of curling up beside her.

His phone is in his hand instead of his laptop resting against his knees, and for the first time in the four days since he’s brought her home, she realizes that he’s not wearing his beanie, that he hasn’t worn it at all around her.

The floor creaks under her weight. His eyes snap to her.

“Hey baby,” he greets quietly, pushing himself up on his elbows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty blinks, hating the awkwardness between them. Their conversations used to be so effortless.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I just...” She sighs, wringing her hands together. “Juggie, can I...”

* * *

“Yeah,” Jughead answers, a little too quickly, but he’s desperate for any contact she’s willing to give him.

Betty remains standing, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

He smiles sadly, arms opening. “C’mere baby.”

She runs, _runs_ , throws herself down onto the couch beside him, letting him wrap his arms around her, pressing his chest against her back.

He remembers taking her to the Drive In when they were sixteen, camping out in the back of Sweet Pea’s old truck or Archie’s. He knew she was never really cold, never really fell asleep, at the beginning anyway, but he was happy to play along.

She has no idea that when she _did_ succumb to her sleep, he always kissed her on the top of the head every few minutes, an action his fellow Serpents had mocked him for, but he never cared.

“This couch isn’t very comfortable,” Betty admits.

Jughead tightens his arms around her. “Well we’ll have to do something about that then, won’t we, angel?”

* * *

She falls asleep not too long after the movie starts.

He stops it, content to watch his girl instead of his favorite movie.

_This_ is how he wants it to be, all the time, but it can’t, because they are so far from where they used to be, and he has no idea how they can get that back.

* * *

The peace doesn’t last long.

* * *

He has to detangle himself from her when Sweet Pea calls to complain about some computer problem.

Jughead talks in hushed whispers, determined not to wake her up or let her out of his sight.

* * *

“You should have picked a harder password, dumbass,” he grumbles. “You made it so fucking easy for Fangs and Joaquin to hack your Facebook. Your password is _tangerine.”_

Betty stirs, and he tries to lower his voice, not wanting to wake her.

_“I love tangerines dude,”_

“Everyone loves tangerines, Sweet Pea,” Jughead rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why you would make that your fucking Facebook password, or why you’re calling _me_ about it. _Tangerine._ Grow the fuck up man, I’ve got bigger things to... Betty?”

* * *

She’s on him in a flash, hands wrapped around his neck in a bruising grip.

* * *

The sad part is, she has no idea _what_ the Farmies did to her exactly, with all the drugs, and _“therapy sessions”,_ and one-on-ones with Edgar.

But whatever he did, whatever _they_ did, did the trick.

She’s not safe, and neither is the person she loves the most.

_Jughead._

* * *

_“Betty!”_

She snaps out whatever trance she’s apparently in as he snaps his fingers. Her hands, still gripping his throat, begin to shake and she wrenches away from him like he’s on fire.

She can still see the marks she left against his neck, the scratches on his cheek that are _just_ beginning to heal.

Slowly, Betty comes to the horrifying realization. She’s hurt him. _Again._

And she fucking hates herself for it.

* * *

He’s shocked, stunned, but his first thought is to get to her before she can retreat any further from him than she already has.

Jughead descends on her, grabbing her by the ankles, dragging her kicking, screaming and struggling back to him, crushing her to his chest as he sinks to the floor with her in his arms.

“L-Let me go Jug!” She pleads.

“No,” He says. The sound of his voice, slightly hoarse from her bizarre attempts to strangle him, make her try and squirm again, but he’s stronger in the physical sense, and he throws a leg over her lap, pinning both of hers to the dusty hardwood. “Betty, _Betty_ , for fuck’s sake, stop fighting me!”

She stops, for a moment.

“You have to let me go,” Betty whispers.

Jughead’s heart turns to stone.

He doesn’t know how to help her, doesn’t know how to handle this, _any of it_ , but he’s never been a quitter, especially when it comes to the things he loves.

And he loves Betty Cooper. She’s about the only thing he loves anymore.

“Juggie-”

“No,” he tells her, shaking his head. Betty goes limp in his arms. “I’m not gonna let you go angel, I’m never letting you go.”

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, just as he’s calmed her down to the point where she _might_ start talking, there’s several sharp taps against the wood of his door.

_“Jones!”_ Sweet Pea barks, and he sounds nervous. “Open up!”

Betty raises her head from his shoulder. “...Sweet Pea?”

His jaw tightens.

That _fucking phone call._ He hadn’t thought about calling back, even sending a text to tell his friend to tell him that everything was under control.

_“Jones!”_

“Just a fucking second, asshat,” Jughead snaps, making Betty flinch. Sighing, he stands up, placing her on her own two feet. “Go wait in the bedroom, okay baby?”

Betty stares at him, jaw falling. “Jughead-”

“Betty, _go.”_

She looks hurt by the abruptness of his words, but before he can apologize, she storms off.

He rakes a hand through his hair, wanting nothing more than to call her back, wrap her in his arms again and kiss her senseless.

Unfortunately, the Serpents aren’t that patient.

_“Jones!”_

Jughead swings the door open, not surprised to find his four most loyal Serpents standing behind it. The twenty or so leather clad men and women that are with them, are a surprise, however.

“The fuck do you want?” He demands, and tries not to sound prideful. The Serpents consider Betty to be one of their own, just as he does. “I had everything under control.”

“We’re not here for you, Boss Man,” Sweet Pea pushes past him, Toni, Joaquin and Fangs following suit. “We thought something might have happened to Betty.”

“Is she okay?” Toni asks, concern filling her dark eyes.

“No she’s not okay,” Jughead snorts. “She just tried to fucking choke me!”

“...What?”

His friends surround them.

“It was after you called me,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “She was asleep on the couch and then all of a sudden, her hands were around my neck.”

“That’s... not Betty,” Toni frowns. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“No shit, Toni,” Jughead grits out. “Whatever the fuck that was, that’s _not_ Betty. Those mother fuckers did something to my girl.”

“Do you know what could have triggered her?”

He shakes his head. “No... Sweet Pea and I were on the phone, talking about his fucking Facebook password.”

Sweet Pea glares at Joaquin and Fangs. “You’re both dead fucking meat.”

“Wait, what was your password?”

“Tangerine,” he answers begrudgingly.

Toni laughs, momentarily forgetting herself. _“Tangerine?_ Seriously?”

“Why does everyone have a problem with my fucking Facebook password?” Sweet Pea’s nostrils flare. _“I love tangerines.”_

The bedroom door flies open.

Betty is a blonde blur as she closes the distance between them in a fast paced stride, throwing herself onto his back, hands again going for his neck.

“Betty, baby...”

Suddenly, she’s being pried from him by Joaquin and Fangs, holding tightly to her upper arms, her feet dangling above the ground.

There’s a vacant look in her glazed over eyes.

Jughead does the only thing he can think of as his friends stare at him in horror. He snaps his fingers, and Betty drops from their grasp into a heap on the floor.

She bursts into tears.

* * *

Jughead gathers her in his arms.

He shouldn’t be holding her, not after everything she’s done, but he’s so warm, so _good_ , she can’t help but give in, sobbing against his chest.

She can feel the eyes of her old friends burning holes into her back, and she wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around them too, to apologize, _something._

Jughead, as it seems, has other plans.

“Leave,” he commands, and they all start towards the door.

“Jug...”

“No,” Jughead says, pulling her closer. “Not now Betts, not now.”

* * *

When he feels her breathing even out and her head lulls to the side, he carries her back to the bedroom, lays her down, covers her up, and turns to go.

She catches his hand.

“Baby-”

“Stay with me,” she whispers.

He can’t tell her no. He doesn’t want to.

So he climbs in beside her, wraps her up in his arms, cradles her to his chest.

She’s asleep in seconds flat.

* * *

She wakes up alone.

* * *

She hates not knowing what he’s thinking, if he’s going to make her talk about it, if he’s going to leave her to her own thoughts.

But then there’s three sharp taps against the wood of the door, and Jughead pushes it open, looking exhausted.

Silently, he beckons her forward.

Betty takes his hand, lets him lead her back into the living room.

* * *

“What the fuck did they do to you?” He demands.

She shrinks away from him yet again, but he’s not about to let her off the hook that easily.

He takes her hand, brushes his thumb across her knuckles, wanting to smile as her hands relax.

His heart hardens when he feels the familiar crescent marks dug deep into her palms. It’s an old habit, a bad habit he’s spent years trying to prevent her from doing it.

He’ll just have to try harder.

“Betty.”

“I... I don’t know,” she says, as his grip tightens on her hands.

* * *

She wants to smile at him gratefully, for protecting her the way he always used to, but she can’t.

“What do you mean, _you don’t know?”_ Jughead’s glaring at her. “How could you not fucking know?”

Something inside of Betty snaps.

“Don’t _talk to me like that Forsyth,”_ she warns. “For fuck’s sake Jug, it’s _me_ , I’m not one of your Serpents.”

_“Betty,”_

* * *

He grabs her, pulling her onto his lap, nearly squeezing the life out of her. He can’t help it.

What she just said, it’s the closest she’s been to being _his_ Betty since he got her back, and there it is again, the _hope_ that they can make it through this.

Jughead Jones might not believe in much, but he believes in _her_ , in them.

* * *

Betty feels hopeful too, so much so that she goes in for a kiss, nestled in his arms.

He turns away.

Her heart shatters a little more.

_Why doesn’t he want her?_

* * *

“Betty...”

He knows her, too well, which means he knows _exactly_ what she’s thinking.

He wants her. He _always fucking wants her._

He opens his mouth, intending to have everything out in the open, to tell her _every single thing_ he felt when she was gone...

But nothing comes out.

Betty stares at him for a moment, hurt slowly settling in. She pushes herself off his lap, starts towards the bedroom.

He catches up to her in no time, getting a firm grip on her arm, only for Betty to yank away, strong even in her weakened state.

“We need to talk about this,” Jughead growls.

Tears fill her pretty green eyes. “No we don’t.”

“What did they _do_ to you Betts?” He demands. “What the fuck did they do?”

“They didn’t do anything Jug!” Betty snaps. “I’m just crazy! I’m fucking crazy!”

He grabs her.

* * *

A surprised gasp escapes her lips as he pushes her against the wall, dragging both her arms above her head, pinning them there with a single hand.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear Elizabeth,” Jughead hisses. _“You are not crazy._ If you ever say that about yourself again, I’ll...”

“W-What?” Betty whispers. She’s both terrified and excited by this side of him, and it’s confusing her already clouded mind even more.

He lets go of her wrists, wraps his arms around her, and holds her close.

* * *

_This,_ he thinks. _I’ll do this._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)

* * *

“I don’t know what happened,” she tells him, head in his lap. “I was so out of it most of the time... Juggie?”

His fingers tighten in her hair. “What baby?”

“What month is it?”

Jughead blinks, anger coursing through his veins.

“It’s June, sweetheart,” he says finally. “almost July. You’ll be nineteen in twenty four days.”

Betty starts to tremble.

“They drugged me, Jughead,” she whispers. “I’d be tied to a bed in one room, and then I’d wake up in another with Edgar, or one of the other Farmies standing over me. I... I don’t know what they did. I don’t know why I’ve been trying to hurt you.”

A moment passes.

“I have an inkling,”

Betty peers at him, but she doesn’t look surprised. “You do?”

Jughead nods once.

“Do you trust me?”

She tries to smile. “You know I do.”

* * *

“I need your help,”

_“Aww man, I thought we were off for the rest of the week!”_

“It’s for Betty,”

_“When and where, Boss Man? When and where?”_

* * *

Sweet Pea is the first one to burst through the door, grabbing her up in a bear hug and swinging her around.

Her laughter doesn’t make Jughead smile the way she used to.

Fangs and Joaquin claim her next, lifting her feet off the ground, and she’s ready to cry by the time she get to Toni, there’s tears in her eyes.

“Hi,” she says.

Toni pulls her into a bone crushing hug in response.

Having their friends, or most of them anyway, in the space that is her and Jughead’s home now makes it feel more official, like she _is_ home.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Toni demands, looking worried.

Jughead glances at Betty, eyes meeting, and sends her a telepathic message. She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to.

“I trust Jug,” Betty tells her, glancing around. “I trust _all_ of you, just... don’t let me go?”

Sweet Pea takes hold of her right arm, Joaquin of her left.

“Don’t worry Princess,” Sweet Pea tells her. “We’re never letting go of you again.”

* * *

He’s more thankful for his friends than he can ever fucking say.

* * *

He wills one last message to his girl.

_I love you._

_I’ve always loved you._

_No matter what they did, we’re gonna get through it. We can get through anything._

* * *

“Tangerine,” Jughead says slowly, through gritted teeth. “Tangerine... _Tangerine.”_

* * *

Betty goes for his throat, gets yanked back by Sweet Pea and Joaquin before she can even try and touch him.

She has no idea what she’s doing, and that’s fucking _terrifying._

* * *

They try it, again and again.

Toni records his scratching and clawing girlfriend on her phone for reference. Fangs stands to his right, just in case.

Jughead snaps his fingers. Betty, still being held back by Joaquin and Sweet Pea, goes limp in their arms, falling none too gracefully to the floor with a sob.

* * *

Arms wrap around her, hauling her up from the ground.

Jughead’s carrying her, she realizes, and she’s quick to wrap her legs around waist, clinging to him with everything she has left.

“W-What did they do to me Jug?” Betty whispers.

“They hypnotized you, baby,” he replies, fingers tangling in her hair. “The only question is _why?”_

* * *

She’s sitting on the old leather couch, really they need to get a new one, a blanket wrapped securely around her as she listens to the Serpents angrily discuss the situation at hand.

“You don’t remember _anything_ Princess?” Sweet Pea asks in a careful tone.

His jaw is tight, reminding her of all the times he tried to protect her when they were kids, and she was just Jughead’s childhood friend, the _Northside Princess_ that he looked out for, same as any other kid that lived on the Southside.

Jughead is just as protective.

“Back the fuck off,” he warns.

Betty frowns at him. “Jug-”

“I think that’s enough for one night,” Jughead announces, ignoring her. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Jug,” she says again.

“You’re exhausted Betts,” Jughead levels his gaze at her, like he knows her better than she does right in that moment, and maybe he does, because he has no idea how lost she feels. “I need to get you to bed angel. Don’t fight me, okay? We’re calling it a night.”

Betty bites her lip, takes a moment to nod as the more rational part of her brain, or what’s _left_ of her rationality, reminds her that she can’t continue letting him make every single decision for her.

* * *

He barely lets his Serpents say goodbye to his girl.

He’s feeling selfish, possessive tonight, and he hates himself for it, but he’s done sharing her for now.

* * *

“Jug?”

“What Betts?”

She takes a deep breath.

“Why don’t you wear your beanie anymore?”

* * *

His chest tightens at her question.

He only has one answer that he can give her, and it won’t make any sense, because she has _no idea_ just how much he’s been hurting too.

* * *

“Because,” Jughead bites out, and his tone brings tears to her eyes. “I’m not a fucking kid anymore Betty.”

* * *

The look on her face _fucking kills him._

He’s about to reach for her when there’s a hurried knock at the door. Swinging it open, he finds Fangs at the other end, cheeks red, out of breath.

“Regression therapy,” he pants. “We should try regression therapy.”

Jughead glances back at Betty, giving her a single nod. It’s her choice. Everything that happens to her from now on will be _her choice._

* * *

Betty almost smiles.

“We should do it,” she agrees. “I don’t know if it will work, but it’s worth a try. Maybe then... we’ll know why I’ve been trying to hurt you.”

Jughead moves from the door, takes her by the hands, pulls her to her feet. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he tucks her into his side.

“Hurt me all you want,” he mutters. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

It’s exactly what she needs to hear.

* * *

He insists on carrying her to bed, and she doesn’t fight him, grabbing him by the hand to pull him down with her.

Jughead tries to pull away. “Baby...”

“I don’t understand,” Betty admits, because she doesn’t. “I don’t know what’s going on between us right now and I’m trying to be patient Jug, I really am, just... will you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?”

He nods slowly, kicks off his shoes, drops down onto the bed beside her.

“Thank you,” Jughead says, pulling her close. “for trying to understand. I’ll... I’m trying angel, I really am.”

“Shh,” she pulls her fingers through his hair. “I know. I know you are.”

They’re sharing a pillow, lips only inches apart, but she doesn’t try to kiss him again. She knows he just needs time.

Even if it physically _hurts_ , she’ll do anything for him.

“Jug,”

He sounds sleepy. “Yeah baby?”

“You know we’re gonna get through this,” Betty whispers. “right?”

Jughead huffs a laugh, hugging her close.

“Betty Cooper,” he drawls, in a familiar voice that sends shivers down her spine. _“I’m_ supposed to say that to _you.”_

* * *

Betty wakes up, surprised but please to find him still sleeping soundly beside her.

* * *

He starts for the Bentley, Betty goes straight for his bike.

Jughead sees her starting to fight an internal battle, about what, he’s not sure, but he’s not going to let her lose, even against herself.

He swings one leg over the bike, hands her the helmet he was going to surprise her with a year ago, patting the seat behind him.

She gets on expertly, wraps her arms around him tightly.

“Hold onto me angel,”

And she does. She always does.

* * *

She’s not surprised to see the familiar line of motorcycles falling into place behind them, but by the way he keeps glancing over his shoulder, Jughead _is_ , and she can only think of one thing.

_How **alone** has he been?_

* * *

“Okay Elizabeth-”

“Betty,” she interjects, and he grins.

She’s never liked her given name much, only when he says it, and it’s usually just to mock her.

_“Betty,”_ the therapist, Dr. Louise Ogley corrects, sounding apologetic. “I’m going to count down from five, and when I do, I want you to go back to your time at the Farm. Try to remember why the word _Tangerine_ is supposed to trigger you.”

Jughead is watching behind a pane of glass as his girlfriend lay on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched together so tightly, he knows he’ll have to bandage them later.

_“Five,”_

“It’s okay Jug,” Toni, to his right, mutters. “She can do this.”

_“Four,”_

Betty looks pained.

_“Three,”_

Sweet Pea’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder.

_“Two...”_

“I know,” Jughead replies, but he still wants to burst through the door and drag her out. “I know she can.”

_“One.”_

* * *

_She’s in a room, strapped down to the table._

_Alice is standing over her, looking worried._

_“I don’t understand, Edgar,” she says, to the man standing beside her. “It’s been **weeks** , I thought for sure she would have seen the light by now.”_

_“M-Mom...” Betty whimpers. “Please, this isn’t...”_

_Edgar backhands her. “We will have silence, **Sister Elizabeth.”**_

_“That’s not my name!” She cries._

_He hits her again._

_“It’s the Jones boy,” Alice sneers. “and all the rest of them. She won’t let them go.”_

_Edgar grins coldly._

_“Well,” he says, after a moment. “we’ll have to do something about that then, won’t we, Sister Elizabeth?”_

_“Do whatever you have to do,” her mother commands, spinning on her heel, walking away. “Just cleanse my daughter of her sins.”_

* * *

“No...” Betty whimpers.

“Betty,” Dr. Ogley lays a hand on her arm. “Betty, it’s okay...”

_“No!”_ She hisses, wrenching away from her. “He’s coming back for me! Jughead’s coming back!”

* * *

_“He’s coming for me,” she warns Edgar, as he pushes the syringe further into her bound arm. “He’ll always come for me!”_

_“And when he does, we’ll have quite the surprise for him,” Edgar tells her. “Tell me, Sister Elizabeth, will you still love this boy when **you** are the cause of his death?”_

* * *

_“No!”_

“We’re going to wake up now,” Dr. Ogely says sternly. “Betty, when I count down from five, you’ll awaken. Five...”

_“Jug!”_ Betty cries, nails digging further into her palms.

He kicks the door down.

* * *

Sweet Pea and Fangs are at his heels, trying to hold him back. Dr. Ogely too, bring up an arm to halt him, but he brushes past her.

She’s sobbing now.

“Four,”

“Betts,” he tries to sooth, brushing her hair back. “Baby, angel, sweetheart, wake up. Open your eyes. C’mon beautiful, let me see those pretty green eyes.”

“Juggie! Jug!”

“Three.”

“I’m here baby, I’m right here,” Jughead says. He glares at her therapist. “For fuck’s sake, _wake her up.”_

“Two,” Dr. Ogely continues. “And one... _awaken.”_

Her eyes fly open.

There’s blood on her hands that he chooses to ignore for the moment. Sliding one arm across her `back, the other hooking under her knees, he lifts her from the couch, carrying her out of the office.

Betty clings to him.

“What did you see, sugarplum?” Fangs asks, trying to keep up with his fast paced stride. “Where did you go?”

“Leave her alone,” Jughead barks out. “Leave her the fuck alone! I’m taking her home. I don’t want any of you following us.”

“Jug-”

“Toni, I said _leave it alone.”_

* * *

He manages to get her back home, carries her through the empty bar, up the stairs, helps her change into one of his t-shirts.

This time, he looks at her.

She brings her arms up to cover her still clothed body, but he catches them, pinning her wrists down by her sides.

“I know I don’t look very pretty right now, with how thin I am, and all the bruises...”

“Betty,” Jughead meets her gaze. “Shut up.”

“What? Jug-”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, babe.”

Her cheeks burn, and she wastes no time in closing the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

He indulges her for several long seconds before pulling away.

It’s not as long as she would have liked, but it’s a start, and she’ll take what she can get.

* * *

“Will you stay with me?”

He’s already toeing his boots off, sliding out of his jacket, yanking his shirt over his head before lying down beside her, gathering her in his arms.

“Always,” he says, and the smile he’s gifted with is so utterly breathtaking, a tear comes to his eye.

He’ll never leave her again.

* * *

“You’re not sleeping,” Jughead mumbles, several hours later.

She rolls over to face him. “How did you-”

“I know _you_ Betts,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you wanna talk about what happened today?”

Betty nods.

“What happened to you at the Farm, sweetheart?”

“They wanted to hurt me,” Betty whispers. “by making _me_ hurt the one thing I ever loved. Juggie, if you hadn’t figured out that I was being hypnotized, you would be six feet under right now.”

* * *

They don’t talk much after that, not that she minds.

Instead, he sits with her on his lap, head tucked under his chin as his hands makes circles across her back.

“Why aren’t you running from me?” She asks.

His fingers curl in her tresses, after a moment’s hesitation, a kiss is pressed to her hair.

“You know why baby,” Jughead mutters, low enough for only her to hear. “You know why.”

It’s the closest she’s gotten to an _I love you_ since she was taken from him, and it stirs something within her.

She doesn’t try to kiss him again. Too much has happened and they’re still moving at a snail’s pace.

He’s with her though, he’s holding her, and when she wakes up the next morning, she’s still wrapped up in his arms.

It’s the happiest she’s been in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

* * *

It’s time for the Wyrm to reopen.

He’s managed to keep it closed for a week, but the Serpents are getting antsy. They want their spot back, and as their leader, it’s his job to make that happen.

His presence within the bar is almost certainly required.

That doesn’t mean Betty has to be there, though.

* * *

She watches him get ready from the bed, where she remains seated, his comforter strewn across her legs.

“I’ll be back late,” Jughead informs her coldly, making no moves to invite her along. “Don’t wait up for me, okay angel?”

Betty sighs in response. It’s only half past six and she’s not tired.

_What the hell is she supposed to do for the rest of the night?_

“Oh,” he reaches into his back pocket, tosses a brand new phone to her. “I almost forgot, here you go baby. Everyone’s numbers are already in there, so...”

She beams at him. “Jug...”

Jughead shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “You can text me, you know... if you want to.”

His face is a little flushed, and he’s so fucking adorable, she can’t help but grab him by the shoulders, pecking him on the cheek.

“Are you flirting with me, Forsyth?” Betty asks coyly.

“Maybe I am, Elizabeth,” he tweaks her nose before slipping into his jacket. “Text me, okay?”

“I will... Jug?”

“Yeah baby?”

“What’s the passcode?”

Jughead pauses in the doorway, turns around.

“Same as your old one,” he tells her with a wink. “Sneaky girl.”

Her cheeks burn.

_Her old passcode was his birthday._

* * *

**Excuse me, is this Forsyth the third?**

Snorting, he rolls his eyes as he types an appropriate response. **Do you really think I would give you a new phone without putting your number in mine first Betts?**

**Damn!**

**Dork!**

**Juggie, what’s my name in your phone?**

**What do you think it is, baby?**

**Dork?**

**Betty.**

**Hmm... Angel?**

**Ding ding ding, we have a winner, my brilliant girl.**

Toni, working the bar, leans across the counter to read over his shoulder.

She’s smiling as he glares at her.

“What?” Jughead grits out.

“Nothing,” his best friend holds her hands up in surrender. “It’s just... nice. To see the old you, I mean.”

He scowls. “I’m not him anymore Toni, _I can’t be.”_

“And why the hell not?”

“Because he was immature,” Jughead barks, fingers curling inwards towards him palm, making a tight fist. “Because he let _her_ down, all because he went to buy her a fucking book! If I had just stayed with her...”

“Jug,” disapproval drips from her tone. “You had no idea what was going to happen. You can’t blame yourself for-”

“Yes I can,” he says. _“because it’s my fucking fault.”_

A heavy silence falls amongst the bar.

**I miss you.** She writes.

Jughead sighs. **Yeah, you too.**

Betty doesn’t text back.

“Speaking of books,” Joaquin interjects, even though it had been several minutes since a book had been mentioned. “I picked one up for you today Jones.”

Jughead eyes him suspiciously. “’Quin...”

His friend presents it to him, and he wants nothing more than to kill him slowly.

_The idiot’s guide to fixing his relationship_ , it reads. By Isaiah Snyder.

“The fuck is this?” He demands, throwing it down onto the bar top.

“A book,” Joaquin repeats, stone faced. “designed to help save your failing relationship.”

Jughead’s on him in a flash, grabbing his arm, twisting it at a painful angle behind his back.

“My relationship is _not_ failing,” he says darkly, because it’s not, it can’t be, it’s the only thing he has left. “It’s not, you fucking asshole.”

Toni clears her throat, and he finally seems to realize himself, letting Joaquin go and stepping back from the bar.

Everyone’s staring.

“Is it really _succeeding_ Jug?” Joaquin’s being braver than usual, and he can’t decide if he should respect him or beat the shit out of him for it. “That girl up there _needs_ you right now, so why aren’t you fucking running to her, man?”

It’s not just a good question, it’s a great question, and he’s not sure who he hates more, Joaquin for pointing it out, or himself, for not rushing to be by her side.

He wants to move.

He doesn’t.

So he decides that he hates himself more.

Toni tries not to let her disappointment in him show as she walks around from behind the bar, announcing that she’s going to take her break.

Jughead doesn’t pay attention to which way she’s going.

* * *

Betty’s nervous as she swings the door open.

She’s relieved to see Toni on the other end.

“Hey B,” she greets quietly.

Betty smiles, steps back to let her in. “Hey Toni... what are you-”

Suddenly she’s in her friend’s arms, and laughing sadly, she hugs her back before leading her to the old couch.

“I really missed you B,” Toni admits, swiping at her eyes.

Betty hugs her again. “I missed you too T.”

* * *

“So, not that I’m not happy that you’re here, but... shouldn’t you be working?”

Toni merely smiles. “I’m on break. I knew you were up here by yourself, so I thought I would...”

“Come talk to me about Jughead?”

Her friend sighs. “That obvious, huh?”

Betty tugs playfully at the end of one of her long braids. Toni’s been her friend since they were six, and they’ve always been an ear or a shoulder for one another when it comes to their respective boyfriend/girlfriend problems.

Of course, back then Jughead _wasn’t_ her boyfriend, but he _kind of was_ , because he’s always been hers just like she’s always been his. It’s exactly the way it should be.

Except it isn’t.

Jughead’s still acting like he’s afraid to even touch her. He wants to keep her for himself, hence the reason he didn’t invite her down to the bar, and the not so rational side of her loves him for that, wants to accept the protection he’s so graciously offering, _wants him_ to be selfish, say she’s his and not let anyone else come close, but she can’t live like thhis forever.

At least, not _all_ the time.

“So... how’s it going?”

Betty sighs loudly. “How do you _think_ it’s going?”

Toni sighs too, taking her hand with a gentle squeeze. “Just... give him a little time B... be patient with him, okay?”

“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?” She’s angry, not at Toni, but at her boyfriend, the situation, the distance between them. “I’m trying T, I _am_ , it’s just...”

“Betty-”

“I’m so... _lost_ right now,” Betty confesses. “And so is Jug.”

“Well _yeah_ he’s lost,” she agrees. “He hasn’t been himself since the day he lost _you.”_

* * *

She freezes.

Sure, she’s thought about it, how he might have felt during the year they were apart, but she can never quite figure out _what_ he felt _because he won’t fucking talk to her._

“His beanie...”

“He stopped wearing it that night,” Toni tells her, and she looks worried. “He said that... the boy who wore that beanie was immature, because he left you alone. He feels like he didn’t protect you from Edgar, like...”

“Like it’s his fault,” Betty finishes. There’s fresh tears in her eyes, but stubbornly, she refuses to let them fall. “That’s crazy! It’s not his fault! We had no idea any of this was going to happen!”

“Try telling that to Jughead,”

“I will.”

“You’re the only one he’ll listen to B,” Toni squeezes her hand again.

“Taking off his beanie shouldn’t have made him an entirely different person.”

“But alas, it did. He doesn’t even write anymore. Or read.”

_“He’s not writing?”_

She shrugs.

Writing used to be his favorite past time.

It explains why she hasn’t seen his laptop once since the day he brought her home.

* * *

“I loved the boy that wore that beanie,”

“He’s still in there somewhere,” Toni reminds her. “You still love him... right?”

“Toni,” Betty levels her gaze at her. “How can you even ask me that? I love him. Of course I love him. I’ll love him at his best and his worst. Jughead is _it_ for me, he always has been... I just wish he would tell me that he loved me too.”

“Aww B, you know he does,”

“...Are you sure about that?”

* * *

“Wanna come back down to the bar with me?”

* * *

“Where the fuck is Topaz?” Jughead demands, twenty minutes later.

Toni is _never_ fucking late coming back from her break.

“Uh...” Fangs points to the top of the stairs. “Found her... and she’s not alone.”

She descends them slowly, arm pulled back behind her, helping his familiar blonde haired angel down, hands clasped tightly.

_She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen._

Her tresses are loose, framing her face in soft waves. She’s got makeup on, where she got it, he has no idea, dark jeans that hug her hips, a new pair of ankle boots and a long sleeved purple shirt that looks _amazing_ against her skin, hiding the bruises on her arms.

_She shouldn’t be here._

It’s a selfish thought, and he hates himself a little more for it.

The book is still sitting on the bar top, and he quickly knocks it to the floor, not wanting her to see it.

Betty meets his eyes from across the room, bites her lip.

_Great,_ he thinks. _She’s scared that I’m going to get fucking mad at her._

He can do this, Jughead decides. He can be a supportive boyfriend even when the only thing he _wants_ to do is keep her all to himself.

Betty might be his, the cuff on her wrist is living proof of that, but he can’t keep her locked up in the apartment forever.

_No matter how badly he wants to._

* * *

He approaches her slowly.

Toni gives her hand a final squeeze, an apologetic smile as she ducks back behind the bar.

“Hi...” Betty greets awkwardly, wringing her hands together.

His own hands settle on her hips, quickly pulling her the rest of the way to him.

“Hey baby,” Jughead replies gruffly. “You look beautiful.”

* * *

His eyes actually light up.

* * *

“H-Hi,” she says again, cheeks burning. “Jug, you’re not...”

“I’m never gonna get mad at you sweetheart,” he vows, lips close to her ear.

* * *

“Cousin!”

She’s yanked away from him, rapped in an embrace by Cheryl that leaves her looking surprised when her cousin finally breaks it.

“It is _so_ good to see you,” Cheryl tells her, and Jughead has to give her credit. She really does sound genuine.

His amusement, however, disappears the second Cheryl takes his girlfriend by the hand and leads her away, telling her that they _have so much to catch up on._

* * *

Fangs sneaks her a shot, like he used to do when they were sixteen. Toni, Cheryl, Joaquin and Sweet Pea laugh in a chorus as she glances over her shoulder, just to be sure.

She throws it back, and then another.

It goes straight to her head.

* * *

“So how are things _in the bedroom,_ Cousin?”

“Cheryl,” Toni warns, behind the bar.

“You mean _sleeping alone?”_ Betty quips back. “While my boyfriend completely ignores the fact that I exist? It’s _great_ , thanks for asking!”

“Betty...”

“My darling Elizabeth,” Cheryl touched her knee. “That boy has only ever had eyes for one woman, and that woman, dearest cousin, is _you.”_

“Yeah Sugarplum,” Fangs hooks an arm around her neck in a friendly, drunken squeeze. “he’s crazy about you.”

“Someone should tell him that,” Betty grumbles.

She spies Jughead across the bar, too deep into his conversation with another Serpent to notice her staring at him.

“B? You okay?”

Whatever they’re talking about has his full attention, and for a moment, she sees the boy she’s always loved, a familiar fire in his once bright blue eyes.

Determined.

Whatever’s going on, he’s determined, and now _she_ is too, determined to get his attention while she still recognizes him.

“He’s so beautiful,” Betty declares, swaying off her bar seat. “Maybe I can get him to kiss me.”

* * *

“Jug!” She cries, and throws herself at him.

Jughead catches her easily, frowning at her clearly inebriated state. “Damn it baby, are you drunk?”

Betty grins coyly at him. “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know?”

“And that right there, answers my question, angel,”

“Juggie?”

“What baby?”

She’s beaming.

“You’re pretty,”

He can’t help it. He bursts out laughing.

_“You’re_ pretty,” Jughead tells her. He leans against the wall, loops an arm under her thighs, hoisting her up. The Serpents around them look, and then just as quickly, look away, giving their leader and his girlfriend this one moment of peace. “You’re not just pretty Betts, you’re fucking beautiful, gorgeous, sexy as hell...”

Her arms around his neck tighten.

“...You think I’m sexy? You _want_ me?”

He frowns. “You know I do.”

Betty shakes her head sadly. “No. No I don’t.”

He should kiss her.

He should carry her back upstairs, back to _their_ bedroom and spend the rest of the night showing her just how much he wants her.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he threads his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck, pulls her close so her face is hidden against his shoulder, and holds her close.

He knows it’s not enough.

* * *

Betty lets her feet fall to the floor, pushes herself off of him, starts to walk away.

Jughead grabs her arm. “Betty-”

“Jug,” she meets his gaze. “Let me go. I’m tired.”

He immediately releases her.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” Jughead offers solemnly.

Betty shrugs, trying to keep her tears at bay. “It’s _your_ apartment Jug, sleep wherever you want to.”

“Betty,” he grabs her again.

She’s against his chest, his arms around her and instead of fighting, she relaxes into him, because it’s _something._

“It’s _our_ apartment Betts,” Jughead tells her. “In fact... let’s go shopping tomorrow, okay? We can get some paint, maybe some furniture...”

“Sure,” Betty agrees lamely, detangling herself from him. “whatever you want Jug.”

* * *

He shoots his friends a single look, defeatedly holds his hand out for the book as Joaquin hands it over.

* * *

She goes to sleep with tears in her eyes.

He said it, he _fucking said it_. He admitted that he wants her, that he thinks she’s sexy, beautiful, _something he hasn’t said since he brought her home_ , and she pushed him further when she promised she wouldn’t.

They’re so fucking broken, both of them, and she can’t put the pieces back together by herself.

* * *

_There has to be a way to fix this,_ he thinks, as he watches his beautiful girlfriend toss and turn in the bed that _should be_ theirs.

He won’t lose her, not for this. Not again. Not ever again.

* * *

The nightmares just keep coming.

* * *

_“You’re not doing your job,”_

It’s not Edgar, Evelyn or any other of the other whacky Farmies trying to sink into the depths of her subconscious. It’s her.

Or rather, _Sister Elizabeth_ , the monster they wanted to turn her into.

Her hair is loose around her shoulders like Betty’s, but her eyes are disturbingly vacant. She recognizes the look well, the one she was forced to endure any time she was forced to look in a mirror.

But they could never quite break her.

“No,” she whispers.

_Sister Elizabeth_ smiles. She looks so much like Edgar, it makes her sick to her stomach. This could have easily been her reality.

But Jughead saved her from that.

Jughead kept her sane.

Memories come flooding back to her. All the times she thought of him and convinced herself she hadn’t. He’d protected her, even when he wasn’t with her.

“I won’t do it,” Betty says, as bravely as she can muster.

“Won’t you?” Sister Elizabeth taunts.

“No,” she crosses her arm. “I will never hurt Jughead.”

“Oh Betty,” she laughs. “you could have done this the easy way. _Tangerine.”_

_No._ Betty thinks. _No._

_“Tangerine.”_

“I won’t!” She cries. “I won’t hurt Jughead! I love him.”

“You don’t need _love,_ you stupid girl, you need divinity,” Sister Elizabeth begins to cackle. “If you won’t do it, then I will.”

_I won’t let **you** hurt him either, you stupid bitch._

_“Tangerine!”_

It takes everything she has in her to go for Sister Elizabeth’s neck instead.

_“No!”_

* * *

Her hands are wrapped around her own throat.

He’s on the bed in a flash, prying her fingers away, pinning her arms above her head with a single hand.

“Betty,” Jughead sooths, legs straddling her torso, careful not to put his weight on her. _“Betty,_ baby...”

She’s continually chanting the word _no_ , mumbling that she _won’t_ hurt him, and it’s only then does he come to the realization that his girl has again been hypnotized.

_But how?_

No one had uttered the dreaded word _tangerine_ , he’s been watching the door like a hawk since she went upstairs to go to bed, and it none of the Farmies could have called because she’d left her phone, completely dead, down at the bar with Toni. It’s not like they have her number either, she’s protected under a pseudonym on his bill, Ester Amelia Hargroves, because _no one_ is allowed to fuck with her. Ever again.

Confused, he snaps his fingers, draws his hand down the side of her face as she slowly comes back to him.

Betty blinks three times.

“Did I hurt you?” She asks.

He shakes his head. “No baby, you didn’t. You hurt _yourself._ What the fuck was that, Betty?”

But she doesn’t answer.

Instead, she slides out from under him, tugs him down so he’s lying beside her, and curls herself around him.

“I didn’t hurt you,” Betty says with a smile.

Jughead’s eyes narrow. “Betty, I told you, I don’t care if you hurt me-”

“Jug?”

“What baby?”

“Stay with me tonight, okay?”

He can’t say no to her. He doesn’t _want_ to.

He should make her talk more, he should come up with a plan and put that plan into action because he’s so _fucking over_ those fucked up Farmies fucking with his girl, but she’s so fucking beautiful, bleary eyed, lying acrost his chest, he decides the interrogation can wait one more day.

Jughead pulls Betty down on top of him, fingers knotting in her hair.

“Okay,”

She yawns. “And Juggie?”

“Yeah beautiful?”

“Don’t let her get me, okay?”

Jughead has no idea who she’s talking about, but he’ll never deny her anything, even when he’s so thoroughly confused.

“Never,” he agrees, arms around her tightening. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you Betty, not again.”

She falls into a seemingly dreamless sleep at his words, the smallest hint of a smile on her face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter... I have been dying to post, anyway!
> 
> Happy Endings are guarenteed, I promise!
> 
> And we're at the beginning of the end :( I'm sad to say this story is almost finished.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)

* * *

They can’t take the bike if they’re buying paint and other things they may need to renovate what he _hopes_ will be their home, they have to take the Bentley, but he fucking hates the look of disappointment on her face as she drops down into the passenger’s seat.

“Wanna go on a ride this weekend?” He asks, sliding behind the wheel.

Betty doesn’t look at him. “Where?”

Jughead shrugs, clicking his seatbelt into place. “We could go to the beach?”

A smile ghosts across her face. “Really?”

“Yes really. Why would you think I wouldn’t take you to the beach, Betty?”

She’s back to staring out the window.

“Because you won’t take me anywhere else,”

* * *

It’s a mean thing to say, but she knows he needs to hear it.

* * *

She’s surprised when he holds her hand as they walk across the parking lot, and she’s not really sure why.

Holding hands feels like the most intimate thing they’ve ever done, even after his promise to use the blindfold for _other things_ the day before her eighteenth birthday.

But she still hangs onto him for dear life, afraid that he’ll let go the second they enter the automatic doors at Riverdale’s local hardware store.

* * *

He doesn’t.

His grip tightens.

* * *

The awkwardness disappears somewhat as they playfully bicker over the best colors to paint the loft. They agree to start with the bedroom, and a breathtaking smile breaks out across her face when Jughead tells her that she can choose whatever she wants.

She picks _Costal Mist_ , a cross between blue and eggshell, and it’s perfect, he decides, not too dark like the bedroom he grew up with or the overly pink her mother saddled her with when she still lived under the Cooper’s roof.

She says something about a _yellow bathroom_ , and he can’t decide if she’s joking or not, but he takes her by the hand again, leads her further down the aisle to where the brighter colors are.

And that’s how their bathroom will end up being beach themed.

* * *

“Juggie?”

“Yeah beautiful?”

“When this is all over...” Betty draws out, and she’s not just talking about the renovations. “Can we have a house warming, or something?”

His jaw tightens. She’s terrified he’ll say no.

“Yeah,” Jughead agrees, after a moment, and finally relaxes. “Sure Betts, whatever you want.”

* * *

He asks if she wants to take a look at some appliances, and she agrees, already listing off everything they could possibly need.

Betty starts to worry about the costs, but a single look makes her close her mouth.

She doesn’t need to know how, exactly, he makes his money, she just needs to know that he has enough to make every single one of her dreams come true.

* * *

She tries to pick a reasonably priced washer and dryer set, Jughead insists on the most expensive, and she only argues with him for a few minutes before she relents, wrapping her arms around him from behind as he arranges for it to be delivered to the loft in the next couple of days.

While he’s talking, he covers both her hands, fingers intwined against his stomach, with one of his, and with that single touch, she thinks that maybe, _maybe_ , everything could be okay.

* * *

They go to look at refrigerators next, which happens to be directly across from a rather vast selection of wood.

And that’s where they find Archie.

* * *

_“Jug?”_

He tenses beside her, and then he’s suddenly pushing her to stand behind him in a familiar movement.

He’s trying to protect her, hide her from view, but _why?_

It’s just Archie.

* * *

“Hey,” Jughead greets awkwardly.

And then Betty’s stepping out from behind him, and he’s not surprised, because it’s _Betty_ , she’s the reincarnation of Nancy Drew, and she’ll never let him get away with anything.

Especially when she finds out that not only has he not seen their shared best friend since the day he lost her, he hasn’t told anyone besides the Serpents that she’s back again, either.

Archie’s jaw drops at the sight of her.

“B-Betty,” he rasps.

And then he’s grabbing her, swinging her into the air as she clings to him, a laugh escaping her lips.

“But... I thought...” Archie puts her down, grabbing her by the shoulders like he’s trying to make sure she’s real. “You were gone. Jug _said-_ ”

* * *

He pulls her away from Archie. Their best friend Archie.

“She’s back,” Jughead says, tone strained. “Look Arch, as great as this has been, I’m taking her home.”

Archie frowns. “Juggie...”

“Jug,” Betty plants her feet firmly. “What the hell is going on-”

“You’re tired,” he tells her, grabbing her wrist. “You’re tired and we’re going home, _that’s_ what’s going on Betts, now c’mon.”

He yanks her along behind him, out of the store, into the car, back to the Wyrm.

Her new prison.

* * *

He expects a fight, and he’s not disappointed.

But it doesn’t start until he pulls up behind the Wyrm.

She doesn’t wait for him to open her door, doesn’t offer him her hand to walk inside. She _slams_ the door, stalks towards the bar, and he’s grinning, because it feels _so damn good_ to see her showing some other emotion that isn’t the scared, shaking shell she’s been beaten into.

“Betty-”

Jughead grabs her arm, forces her around.

“You didn’t tell Archie?” Betty demands, pushing against his chest with both hands.

He stumbles back a step.

“You didn’t tell _Archie_ , our _best friend Archie_ , that you’d found me?”

“Betts...”

Betty stares at him like he’s the scum of the earth. He knows she’s hurt, but that hurts him too.

Spinning on her heel, she storms into the bar, ignores the friendly shouts of the Serpents loitering around, slams the door to their apartment.

* * *

The first thing she sees in a book entitled _The idiot’s guide to fixing his relationship_.

Jughead steps into the apartment behind her. “Betts.”

She snatches it off the old coffee table.

“What is this?” She demands. “What the fuck is this, Jug?”

“A book,” he answers vaguely. “about fixing my relationship...”

* * *

She throws it across the room.

He’s never seen her this angry before, and while he should be scared, he’s everything _but._

She looks so beautiful, finally taking control.

“Oh, you’re in a relationship?”

* * *

Betty brushes past him without a destination in mind. Maybe she’ll go to the bar, try and sweet talk the bartender into getting her drunk.

Something, _anything_ , so she doesn’t have to deal with the inevitable.

Confronting Jughead.

He grabs her arm.

* * *

“That’s not funny,” he growls.

He throws her against the wall, cages his arm on their side, presses his chest to hers. He’s invading her personal space and enjoying every fucking second of it.

“Does it sound like I was making a fucking joke, Jughead?” Betty sneers. Her hands land on his shoulders, but she’s not pushing him away.

“No,”

_“Exactly,”_ she hisses, nails digging into his back. It’s pain he’ll gladly endure, especially if it means she isn’t doing it to herself. “So who are you in a relationship with Jug? _Who?”_

_“You_ , dummy!”

* * *

She reels back as if he’s slapped her.

“Me?” Betty demands.

He leans in, so their faces are only inches apart. Close enough to kiss...

But she doesn’t try.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself Elizabeth,” Jughead warns. “Of course it’s you, it’s always been you.”

“We’re not in a relationship Jug.”

* * *

His stone heart fucking _crumbles._

Jughead stares at her, eyes cold. “You’re wearing my bracelet, aren’t you?”

Betty throws the arm in question up into his line of vision. “You mean this?”

“Yes _that,”_

“This just means I belong to you,”

“It’s the same damn thing Betts,”

“No it’s not!” She snaps, and finally pushes him back a step. “It means that I’m just a fucking possession Jug, not that I’m your girlfriend!”

“Don’t ever fucking call yourself that!” He warns. “You’re not a possession, you’ve _never_ been a fucking possession! Yes you’re mine, my girlfriend, my best friend, my _soul mate_ , the person I want by my side for the rest of our lives.”

* * *

“...Then why aren’t you acting like it?”

* * *

“Baby...”

_“Why don’t you want me?”_ She whispers. “Why don’t you want me, Jughead? Why won’t you tell me that you love me? Why won’t you kiss me? _Why don’t you want me?”_

* * *

She ducks under his arm, ready to run.

He catches her hand, pulling her out of the apartment behind him without a word.

* * *

Toni starts toward them upon seeing the heated look in his darkened eyes, but a single shake of his head has her backing down just as quickly.

There’s only one way he can fix this.

* * *

He leads her into the office she helped him organize the day after his dad died, the only way she could think of to distract him.

There’s several photographs on his desk. One or two are of Jellybean, the rest are of her.

Jughead lets go of her hand, slams the door shut, presses his back against it so there’s no chance of escaping.

“Top right drawer,” he rasps, and she immediately goes for it.

Inside is a first edition copy of her favorite book, _Beloved._

“Jug...”

“That’s why I was late that day,” Jughead tells her. “Because I went to buy you a copy of that fucking book.”

Underneath the book is his beanie, and under that, his laptop. She picks up the hat, holds it close to her chest.

It still smells like him somehow, the boy she loved, and slowly, she turns to face the man she still loves.

“Juggie...”

“I was late,” Jughead says again. “I was fucking late to pick up my girlfriend because I bought her a book. Do you think I like this? Do you think I fucking like this? I _want_ you baby, I always fucking want you, that’s not the problem! _I let you down,_ Betty. I told you I loved you, and then you ere gone, so how the hell can I kiss you? How can I tell you that I _love_ you when I’m so fucking terrified that if I say it again, I’ll _lose you, again!”_

* * *

She puts the beanie down.

And _runs._

* * *

He catches her before she can fall, hands settling firmly on her hips. “Betty-”

She throws her arms around his neck, clings to him for dear life, because _she finally understands._

* * *

It’s her turn to lead _him_ through the bar, and together they ignore the concerned looks of the Serpents as they head back up to their apartment.

* * *

“I need you to look at me,”

Tearfully, he meets her gaze.

“Juggie,” Betty whispers, taking his hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

_I’m not going anywhere._

She says it like a promise she’s intending to keep, and that’s all the invitation he needs to pull her down onto his lap, wrap his arms around her and never let her go again.

* * *

It’s his turn to break, and she’s never been happier to comfort him, to whisper sweet promises about the two of them, the forever they’ll get to share.

* * *

“Betts... there were days I thought I’d never see you again.”

She sniffles, and his arms around her tighten. “I... I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

His heart isn’t made of stone anymore, but it still fucking breaks.

Jughead tangles his fingers in her hair, peppering kisses across her face. “Fuck Betty, I would never... god baby, you must have been so alone.”

Betty tucks her head under his chin.

“Not anymore,” she whispers.

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “not ever again angel. It’s you and me, okay? You and me from here on out.”

* * *

He shifts her off his lap when her eyes grow heavy, lays her down amongst the pillows and blankets, curls up beside her.

“Juggie?”

He pets her hair back, their heads sharing a pillow. “What, baby?”

“Can... will you say it?”

Jughead snorts, fingers trembling. Trailing them down either side of her face, he pulls her in for an earth shattering kiss, swallowing her surprised grasp.

“I love you, Betty Cooper,” he tells her, and the smile on her face is so peaceful as her eyes lull, it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep with her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! There's only like one or two more chapters left :(
> 
> It's been a crazy ride, huh?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! :)

* * *

He’s woken up by that same beautiful smile.

“Well hey there, pretty girl,” he teases, hands splaying across her waist, the soft fabric of his worn t-shirt as she straddles his lap. “How’d you sleep?”

“Amazingly,” his girlfriend admits, dipping her head to meet his lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

Her growling stomach kind of ruins the moment, but he doesn’t care.

“How about Pop’s?” Jughead suggests.

Betty beams. “Please!”

“Wanna get cleaned up babe?” He asks, and she nods, throwing his t-shirt off like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

She’s not wearing anything underneath.

Betty catches him staring, blushes under the scrutiny. “I uh... I’ve gained three pounds since you brought me back.”

 _“Good,”_ Jughead says, making her laugh. Stepping towards her, his hands settle on her bare hips in a firm hold. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world Betts, you know that?”

Her face reddens.

Grinning, he tips her head up, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss.

His dick, of course, has a mind of its own, and immediately hardens. He knows she can feel it, but as he tries to pull away in embarrassment, she slides her arms around his torso and _cups his ass_ with both hands.

He breaks the kiss with a hard laugh. _“Betty!”_

“What?” She questions, eyes innocent. “I like what I see?”

“Oh _do you_ now?” Jughead laughs again.

* * *

Suddenly she’s being lifted, thrown over his shoulder like she doesn’t weigh a thing.

 _“Jug!”_ Betty cries, as he playfully smacks her own ass. “Put me down!”

“Nope!”

“I’m hungry,” she tells him, giggling. “and I really need to take a shower.”

She can picture him rolling his eyes, letting out a loud, over exaggerated sigh as he carries her into the bathroom, putting her down in front of the tub.

“I should have said bath,” Betty mutters.

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Bath, shower, same thing so long as you get clean, right? We really should put a shower in here though, maybe get rid of the tub altogether. What do you think, baby?”

“You... want my opinion?”

“You _know_ I do Betty,” Jughead frowns. “Or maybe you don’t... sorry angel, I’ll work on that. Yes Betts, I want your opinion, I want you to make over this entire fucking place however you see fit. It’s _your_ home babe.”

She shakes her head. “No it’s not Jug.”

“Betty-”

“It’s _our_ home,” Betty says proudly. “at least for the next few years.”

Hooking his arm around his neck, he lets his hand get a little greedy against her breast, but only after he receive an eager nod of approval.

“I’ll buy you a house someday,” he promises, pinching her nipple. She yelps in surprise and he grins, diving at her neck to leave a little mark that says she’s his. She hums happily, further sinking into his embrace. “The only question is... do you want a white picket fence, baby?”

Betty snorts. It’s a habit she hates, but he loves and he decides to make her do it more often.

“Fuck no,” she replies, and the sound of her swearing is just as hot as her entire good girl persona. “Been there, done that... never again. I think a three to four bedroom bungalow with a nice front porch will suffice, Forsyth.”

“Anything you want angel, any-fucking-thing you want.”

* * *

It’s the _way_ he says it that she knows he’ll keep his word.

It’s kind of strange, she realizes that, how they went from being so _fucking_ broken to how they had been before Edgar and his delusional followers took her from her bedroom and ran, and maybe she should be questioning it more, but she doesn’t want to.

Because maybe this is exactly how things are supposed to be.

_Maybe they’re supposed to fix each other._

* * *

“Juggie,”

“What baby?”

“...The tub _is_ big enough for two.”

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. Kicking off his boxers, he grabs her around the waist, settles her on his lap as he adjusts the water to the perfect temperature.

* * *

They cop a few feels, steal a few kisses, and that’s enough for now.

* * *

While she gets dressed, he sends a text.

**Meet us at Pop’s?**

The reply comes seconds later.

**Definitely.**

* * *

“How about that ride?” Betty teases.

He slings her onto his back, carries her down through the empty bar, out to his bike.

“Anything you want angel, any-fucking-thing you want.”

* * *

He goes fast on purpose, makes her hold onto him _just a little tighter._

* * *

Pop greets her with a kind smile, offers her a milkshake on the house for her miraculous return home.

* * *

Jughead doesn’t sit across from her, not that she’s surprised, he always seems to prefer sitting next to her.

He drapes his arm across the back of the booth, steals her fries, keeps her close, and it’s _almost_ like old times.

But Archie and Veronica are missing, Cheryl, Toni, Fangs, Joaquin, Kevin, Sweet Pea, everyone that makes up her chosen family _isn’t_ there, and it’s kind of noticeable.

* * *

“Jug?”

“Yeah angel?”

“What are we gonna do?”

* * *

It’s a viable question, one he’ll never blame her for asking.

Jughead takes her hand, flips her palm up to check for any new marks out of habit, sighs in relief when there’s none.

“I don’t know baby,” he admits, because he’ll never lie to her. “but we’ll figure it out, okay?”

Betty nods, determined. “Okay.”

* * *

At first, she thinks she’s dreaming.

But the two of them are as clear as day, walking into Pop’s, hand-in-hand.

Veronica looks equally as shocked.

“Betty...”

And then Jughead is sliding out of the booth, she’s on her feet, in the arms of her two best friends.

* * *

“How...”

They’re back in the booth, wrapped up in the arms of their respective boyfriends, hands stretched out across the table, afraid to let go.

“It’s a really long story,” Betty admits, glancing up at Jughead.

He nods, encouraging her to tell it, and so does Archie.

“We’ve got time,” Archie tells her, and with a flick of his wrist, signals to Pop for another round of milkshakes and fries.

* * *

She tells it out of order, and Jughead has to fill in a lot of the blanks, but it feels _so fucking good_ to finally say exactly what happened to her.

* * *

“A word, Forsyth,”

His jaw tightens, and he begins to shake his head.

“Betty will be _fine_ here with my Archiekins for the next few minutes,” Veronica insists. She’s already standing. “Outside Forsyth, now.”

Jughead glances at his girlfriend for confirmation.

“I’ll be fine,” she confides to him in a whisper. “just... hurry back, okay?”

“Trust me angel,” he cradles her face, holding her gaze. _“nothing_ , not a damn thing is ever going to keep me away from you, okay? Not even Veronica Lodge.”

* * *

Jughead follows Veronica out, leaving her alone with Archie, who reaches out to touch a healing bruise on her arm with a hesitant hand.

“Are you okay Betty?” He asks kindly.

Betty manages a genuine smile, slowly shaking her head.

“No,” she confesses. “but I will be.”

* * *

“Listen Ronnie, I don’t want to be away from Betty for very long, so if we could make this quick-”

He’s cut off by Veronica wrapping her arms around him. It’s awkward as fuck, but he does his best to hug her back.

“Ronnie...”

“Thank you,” Veronica says. “for finding her, for bringing her back to us.”

The corners of his mouth tip upwards into a hesitant smile.

“I wouldn’t have given up until I found her Veronica, she means everything to me.”

“I knew it,” she teases. “You two were always so stubborn in high school. I’m glad she has you, but Forsyth, I swear to whatever higher power you happen to believe in, if you _ever_ hurt my precious Bettykins...”

“Ronnie, I’d rather lose my left nut to a rabid squirrel than ever harm a hair on Betty’s head,” Jughead snaps, and his heart crumbles at the realization that he _has_ hurt her, more times than he ever wanted to. “Tell you what, if I ever hurt her again, I’ll let you shoot me in the foot with my own gun, okay?”

Veronica smiles, satisfied. “That’s all I ask. Wait... _again?_ What do you mean by that? Are you guys okay?”

It takes him a second to answer.

“No,” he admits, after a moment. “we’re not... but we will be.”

* * *

They finish off the morning with several hugs and promises to get together as much as possible.

Jughead scowls when Betty hires Archie on the spot to help them with the renovation, but there’s a playful glint in his beautiful blue eyes, and he tosses her over his shoulder, carrying her back to the bike as she laughs loudly.

* * *

She’s still exhausted.

While she tries to deny it, he still knows her better than that, and he throws her over his shoulder again as he marches into the apartment, helps her change into one of his t-shirt, chuckles as she mumbles something about _organization_ in their messy bedroom, cradling her head in his lap as his fingers massage her scalp, luring her into a deep, and hopefully dreamless sleep.

* * *

It doesn’t work.

* * *

_“Tangerine, tangerine, **tangerine**.”_

* * *

He’s there, thank god he’s there. Her hands go for her own throat instead of his, but he snaps his fingers, and she collapses against him.

He wants to tell her the truth about the Farm.

She begs him for a little more time, and he happily relents, wraps her in his arms, and holds her while she tosses and turns for most of the afternoon.

* * *

It’s a little after four when she finally wakes up.

“Hi,” Betty breathes, happy to see him looming over her.

“Hey beautiful,” Jughead replies. Leaning down, he kisses her forehead. “You okay?”

“Never better,” she glances at her phone, still beside her on the bed, and frowns. “The bar’s supposed to open soon... shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Probably, but I was wondering if you wanted to take another bath with me.”

“Before you have to head down?”

Jughead laughs. “Before _we_ head down, you mean?”

_“We?”_

“You don’t _have_ to come,” he’s backtracking quickly. “but... I’d love it if you did.”

Her eyes light up.

Throwing her arms around his neck, she peppers kisses to his mouth that he greedily returns.

Her heart hammers inside of her chest.

“Jug,”

He’s a little breathless, and so _fucking_ adorable. “Y-Yeah?”

“...I love you?”

The second he takes to respond feels like _hours_ , and the fear that he _won’t_ say it back slowly comes creeping in.

Jughead is quick to squash it, grabbing her by the shoulders to kiss her again. “I love you too angel, I love you so fucking much.”

* * *

“Juggie, do something for me,”

“Anything angel.”

She holds out his beanie.

* * *

They enter the bar together.

Toni’s the only one there, as the bar isn’t _quite_ ready to open, but a smile breaks out across her face when Jughead pulls Betty close, kisses her hard on the mouth.

They’re still kissing as the rest of the Serpents begin to trickle in.

It’s a _really_ good night.

* * *

She doesn’t remember how to play pool.

So he does that _really cute thing_ like in the movies and TV shows, stands behind her with the stick, helps her win a game against Sweet Pea and Fangs when they almost never lose.

Sweet Pea starts cursing under his breath, but Fangs merely grins as Jughead picks her up, spins her around for the entire bar to see.

* * *

She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He stays attached to her for the entire night, prays she doesn’t mind.

By the way her hand slips into his back pocket, squeezing his ass while his back is to the wall, he doesn’t think she does.

* * *

“You seem...”

Betty giggles nervously, accepting the glass of red wine. She’s not even twenty yet, but it’s Jughead’s bar, and if he says she can drink, she can drink. “Out with it Topaz.”

“There’s the Serpent Queen,” Toni teases, reaching across the counter to take her hand in a gentle squeeze. “I knew she was in there somewhere.”

She gives her friend a tentative smile, unsure of how to respond.

“So... how do I seem?”

“Happy,” she says. “You both seem really happy.”

“We are,” Betty tells her. “or... we’re trying to be.”

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Keep it up B.”

* * *

The fun doesn’t last all night.

Fangs comes to him with alarming news. The Farm is getting ready to relocate, and he has no one to keep an eye on them.

They have to think of a plan. And fast.

The Serpents need their leader, Betty needs her boyfriend, and he reminds himself that he needs to learn _how to be both._

So he takes off his beanie, hands it to the love of his life, signals for his inner circle Serpents, minus Toni, who is still manning the bar, to follow him to the basement.

Betty grabs his arm. “Jug.”

_He doesn’t want to leave her._

“Baby, do you trust me?”

She nods once.

But then.

“I can’t do this again Jug,” Betty whispers. “I can’t deal with you leaving me in the dark all the time... please don’t leave me.”

Serpent business is Serpent business, but tattoo or not, Betty has always been one of theirs.

She’s also the only person he would ever walk away from all of it for. He’s not sure if she knows that.

“I will never leave you, Elizabeth Cooper,” Jughead tells her sternly. His hands find her hips, pushing her back against the wall to hold her in place. “You’re mine, you know that?”

She nods again, lip trembling. “And you’re mine.”

“Always have been baby,” he agrees easily. “always will be. You know I’m trying to protect you, right?”

“Of course I do, but Jug-”

“Betts, the Farm is about to relocate.”

“...What?”

* * *

A million thoughts are running through her head. One stands out amongst all the others.

Why hadn’t she asked him earlier.

“Jug... Edgar told me he’d never let me go,” Betty says slowly. “He said I belonged there, to him, to _them._ How the hell did you get me back?”

* * *

Joaquin isn’t the only one to question him.

“You sure?” He demands, as protective of Betty as ever.

All he gets in response is a short nod.

“Sugarplum...”

Betty, hidden halfway behind him, straightens, puts on the bravest face she can muster.

“I need to know,” she says.

* * *

Jughead has a death grip on her hand.

The video playing on the tablet in front of her is grainy, but she knows Edgar well enough to be able to place him anywhere.

When he starts cutting into the person lying unconscious across the table, she gets nauseous. Fangs stops the video, and Jughead manages to gather her hair in a single hand before she projectile vomits across the floor.

* * *

His arms are around her. So is his jacket.

She’s the only one sitting, the rest of the Serpents milling around them. She asks for a glass of water, and as much as he doesn’t want to leave her, he agrees, because he’ll never deny her anything.

* * *

Her phone starts to ring.

It’s right after Jughead walks away, and Joaquin stares at her, looking worried, but she still pulls it out of her pocket, sees the words **UNKNOWN CALLER** flashing across the screen, answers it anyway.

“I see you haven’t completed your mission, Sister Elizabeth,”

“...Edgar.”

* * *

She doesn’t remember what he says, only that she repeats it three times, and it’s not the word tangerine.

Nor does she remember picking up his switch blade, always stashed in the right pocket of his Serpents jacket.

* * *

Before anyone can stop her, she rushes up the stairs after him.

* * *

He sees her coming from a mile away, but the girl running towards him is not his Betty.

* * *

“Betty...”

* * *

_“Betty.”_

Even in her haziness, the word makes her stop and think.

_Betty._

That’s who she is, not Elizabeth, definitely not _Sister Elizabeth_ , she’s just Betty, Jughead’s Betty, and she’ll never do anything to hurt him.

She can beat this, beat _him_.

Edgar.

She won’t let Edgar use her to hurt the only thing she’s ever really loved.

* * *

_He has no power over you._

_You won’t hurt Jughead. You **won’t.**_

_You won’t let them win._

* * *

She’s fighting an internal battle.

He wants nothing more than to take her in his arms, make all the bad things go away, but something holds him back.

His girl is fighting an internal battle, and she’s _fucking winning._

* * *

“I... love you Jug,” she whispers.

Joaquin and Sweet Pea are behind her suddenly, reaching for her arms, but Betty side steps them, moves towards her boyfriend.

He’s not running from her.

She hands him the knife, watches as he tucks it into his back pocket.

“What the fuck happened?” He mutters, low enough for only her to hear.

A tentative smile graces her lips.

“I think... I won,” Betty says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “and if I didn’t win, then... I’m going to.”

“Fuck yeah you are,” Jughead grabs her up in a hug, arms looping under her thighs to hoist her up. His eyes sweep across the floor, ready to address the Serpents. “We’re going upstairs. Don’t come knocking unless the fucking bar is on fire.”

* * *

The second they come crashing into the loft, her shirt is over her head, bra yanked down to her rib cage, his lips plastered to her neck.

“J-Juggie?”

“Yeah angel?” His voice is muffled.

“...Remember what you promised me that day?”

* * *

And that’s how her first time having sex with Jughead starts, with her wrists bound above her head.

She feels powerful somehow, giving him all the control, but she knows he’ll do everything in his power to make her feel like she’s the one holding the cards.

* * *

It’s her choice. It’ll always be her fucking choice.

He sees _his_ Betty for the first time that night, as he slides into her for the first time, takes the one thing he’d always hoped she would save for him, gives her the one thing he had always planned on saving for her.

* * *

“I want you to try it,” she tells him, after he finally releases her hands from their bonds.

He starts to shake his head. “Baby-”

“Jug, I need to know.”

His hands curl into fists.

“Okay.”

* * *

They get dressed again, somewhat, he’s just wearing his boxers and jeans, she steals an old pair of plaid pajama pants and the shirt he wore down to the bar earlier.

Holding her hand, he calls Fangs, Sweet Pea and Joaquin back up to the apartment.

* * *

“You know,” Fangs is a little drunk as he stumbles in, hooking his arm around her in a friendly squeeze. “you’re lookin’ a little... _different.”_

“She’s not the only one,” Sweet Pea agrees. He grabs Jughead’s chin, holds onto it mockingly between his thumb and index finger. “I’d say our _Serpent King_ looks a little... different too.”

“Fuck off,” Jughead barks, wrenching away from him.

The boys burst out laughing.

 _“I’m so proud of you,”_ Joaquin croons. He glances at Betty and winks. “Both of you.”

* * *

“What do you need, Boss Man?” Joaquin asks.

Jughead hasn’t laughed once, and that alone seems to have set the severity of the situation at and.

He meets her eye, jaw tight.

“We need to try it again,” he says.

* * *

“Fuck no,” Sweet Pea grumbles, heads for the door.

“Sweet Pea.”

“Fuck you Jug,” he snaps. “I’m not fucking doing that to her again. Absolutely not.”

Fangs and Joaquin start to follow him.

_“Please,”_

* * *

It’s the way she says it, the respect his men have for his girl that gets them to stop, reluctantly come back, take hold of her arms in preparation.

Jughead repeats the dreaded word, three _fucking times._

* * *

“Tangerine... tangerine... _tangerine.”_

* * *

The only reaction he gets is a grin slowly spreading across her face.

* * *

“How?” Jughead demands, as Fangs and Sweet Pea let her go. “Baby, _how?”_

“It’s simple,” she tells him, sliding her arms around his neck. One arm under her thigs hoists her up to straddle his waist. “I love you more than I’ll ever fear him.”

* * *

They make love three more times that night before they collapse into bed, exhausted.

“...Juggie?”

His fingers tangle in her hair. “Yeah baby?”

There’s only a moment’s hesitation.

“Let’s take them down,” Betty whispers. "Together."

Jughead pulls her down on top of him, kisses her until it feels like the breath could leave her body.

“Together,” he promises. “always together.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooooooooooooooooooooo much for being so paitent with me. Sometimes life takes a really sharp turn, and that's what happened last week, but I'm okay, I'm working on it, and I'm so excited to start posting again.
> 
> This is the last "official" chapter for live a little. I'll be posting the finale in a few days. Thank you all so much for going on this roller coaster of a story with me.
> 
> And thank you for reading! :)

* * *

The plan is simple: get in, let Betty say what she has to say, get out relatively unscathed, have the police on standby.

Edgar isn’t getting away. Not this time.

* * *

They decide on taking the Bentley, she’s not really sure why, but it’s a mutual decision.

Sweet Pea and Toni are in the back seat. The rest of the Serpents surround the car on bikes. Jughead drives, jaw tight.

She reaches for a single hand, pries it off the steering wheel, laces her fingers through his before she can dig her nails into her palm.

He side eyes her, almost smiles.

“I’ve got you Betts,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’ve always got you.”

* * *

His heart is racing, but he’s the Serpent King, he can’t let his fear show. Not for anyone.

Even _her._

The Farmies guarding the front gates of the rented compound try to laugh in his face, tell him that he won’t be getting anywhere _near_ Edgar.

The gun he shoves into _their_ faces makes those stupid smiles disappear.

Hidden somewhere behind Fangs and Joaquin, Betty inhales sharply.

 _Great,_ he thinks.

She’s afraid. Of him.

* * *

She’s never seen Jughead hold his gun before.

She knows he has one, he has since he joined the Serpents when they were fourteen, but she’s still never seen it, and there’s something just so... _beautiful_ about the way he stands there with it gripped firmly in his right hand. He’s strong, powerful, protective.

 _Hers._ He’s hers. He’s doing this all for her, and she’ll never be able to thank him enough for it.

Well... never say _never._ They may have only had one night together, with no previous experience to base that night on, but the two of them have always been quick learners.

Fangs isn’t quick enough to stop her as she darts from behind him, runs to the front lines, throws her arms around the man she loves.

He stiffens, and then quickly relaxes.

* * *

The arms around his back are a more than welcome presence.

With his gun still firmly trained on Edgar Evernever’s poor, deluded followers, he smirks, covering both her hands with one of his.

“You good, baby?”

“Mhhm,” she replies happily, holding onto him a little tighter. “Juggie, I love you.”

“And I love you, angel mine,” Jughead promises. Teasingly, he pulls back the safety, and the two saps in front of him nearly shit their pants. “Now where were we?”

* * *

He swings her around to face him, keeps the gun a fair distance away as he wraps his free arm around her, kisses her senseless.

Sweet Pea, barely able to hold back a grin, mumbles something about them _getting a room_ , and Betty blushes when he winks at her, promises her that she won’t be sleeping any time soon when they finally do get home.

* * *

Edgar’s followers lead him back to the very room Betty was given back to him. The man himself sits behind his desk, looking less than pleased, Alice at his side.

She nearly chokes on her own tongue at the sight of her daughter. _“Elizabeth?”_

Maybe it’s the cuff that used to be his, but now belongs to her that is on display around her wrist, sleeves pushed back like she _wants_ it to be seen, or maybe it’s the now determined look in her beautiful green eyes, so different from the bruised and broken girl he pulled from this forsaken place in what feels like only days before.

Perhaps, it’s a little bit of both.

Alice doesn’t like knowing that not only is Betty _his_ , just as he’s hers, and she doesn’t like knowing that yet again, she has failed.

She didn’t turn Betty into whatever it is that Alice herself has become.

Betty, half a step behind him, smiles, and it’s both alarming and kind of a turn on to see just how powerful _she_ looks.

She’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful.

“Hello Alice,”

* * *

 _“Alice?”_ The woman formally known as her mother demands. She’s so far gone, Betty _almost_ feels sorry for her. “You will treat me with some respect, young lady.”

Jughead isn’t quick enough to stop her from stepping out behind his defensive stance, watches instead with a fascination as she moves in front of her mother, slaps her straight across the face.

Her palm, with its self-inflicted wounds, stings more than the hit probably hurt Alice, but it’s so fucking satisfying.

Alice looks horrified. “Elizabeth-”

“I’ll show you the same respect you showed me,” she hisses. _“None._ Do you even know what they did to me, mom? Do you?”

Her mother looks away, quickly, as the memories all come flooding back to Betty. Jughead is there to catch her, hands cupping her elbows as he tries to keep her steady.

“Whoa baby,”

“Of course you knew,” Betty whispers, tears filling her eyes. “You’re the one that gave them the _okay_ to do it!”

Jughead’s grip tightens, and then he’s letting go altogether, swinging her back behind him, starts towards Alice with a fierce new determination.

“Jug.”

* * *

Her arms are wrapped around his midsection for what feels like the millionth time that day, and by her mere touch, he can feel the tension leaving his body.

“Remember why we’re here,” she tells him.

And just like that, he’s back on track, gripping his gun a little tighter as Betty takes her rightful place directly beside him.

“You wanna do the honors, Betts?”

* * *

She’s all smiles as she takes the phone from Fangs, hovering a single finger over the button that says _publish now._

It’s a little extreme, and while there’s a large part of her that feels guilty for the trauma she could voluntarily be inflicting onto others, the world needs to know what, exactly, Edgar Evernever and his followers have been doing.

Edgar can clearly see the thumbnails of the patient strapped down to his operating table.

The video goes viral.

His hands curl into fists.

“You promised,” he hisses. “We had a deal.”

Jughead smirks. “Oh, _that_ , well...”

He grabs the back of Edgar’s neck, enjoys it too, smashing his face into the wood of his desk. Blood pours from his nose.

It’s payback for everything the asshole put his girl through, not enough, but he knows the second the video goes viral, Edgar Evernever will get so much more in his little prison cell.

There’s plenty of Serpents in lockup that know how to get the job done.

He’ll never tell Betty that, though.

The sunshine that has always exuberated from her personality is just starting to come back, and he’ll do everything he can to protect it.

Which is why her being here now is a _really_ bad idea, but this is as much her revenge as it is his, if not more so, and he’ll never deny her anything.

“You didn’t really think I’d just walk away after everything you did to my girl,”

To give him credit, Edgar doesn’t let much emotion show.

Instead, he crosses his arms, eyes Betty long enough that Jughead immediately moves to block her from his view.

He doesn’t get to look at her. No one does.

 _Okay, a lot of people do_ , he knows that, he’s being possessive yet again, but he can’t help it. He’ll go to the ends of the earth for this single girl, and he hopes she knows it.

Jughead Jones loves Betty Cooper. It’s never been much of a secret.

“This could have gone an entirely different way, Mr. Jones,” Edgar sneers. “Sister Alice, if you please...”

Betty’s eyes widen, like she’s forgotten. “Mom, don’t...”

“Blue,” Alice recites dejectedly. “Blue... _blue.”_

* * *

She doesn’t react the way they’re expecting her to.

No, quite the opposite.

* * *

The gun is pried from his hand before he can react quickly enough.

Betty has never held a gun in her eighteen years, he’s made sure of that, but it’s gripped so firmly in her own hand, if he didn’t know any better, he would have said she _had._

She presses the barrel right against Edgar’s temple, and it’s startling enough to finally wipe the smug look off his stupid face.

Jughead is both worried, and fascinated.

“Betty-”

“H-How?” Edgar rasps, stunned.

“It’s simple,” Betty replies, and the venom in her tone has him taking another step towards her, but he doesn’t reach for her yet. This is her show, she’s calling al the shots. “I love him more than I’ll ever be afraid of you, you fucking dumbass.”

Sweet Pea and Fangs barely manage to hide their laughter. It takes him back to their childhood, to the bets they’d hold back and forth to see who could get her to swear first.

“I’m not scared of you anymore,” she hisses. “There’s nothing you can do to scare me.”

Jughead’s grinning.

 _There_ , right there in front of him is _his_ Betty. God, he loves her. He loves her so fucking much.

“You really thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you?”

Toni’s brows raise. She’s thinking the same thing he is: _what, exactly, had Edgar failed to get away with?_

“Now, now, Sister Elizabeth, there’s no need to get so upset-”

It’s her turn to pull back the safety, let it go.

Jughead’s terrified now, not of her, but for her.

_She can’t do this._

Even if she think it’ll make her feel ever, even if the world would be a slightly better place without Edgar Evernever, _he_ can’t let her do this.

Killing, bloodshed, lives lost, that’s his life, not hers.

He promised he wouldn’t let his darkness touch her, and it’s a promise he intends to keep.

He can live with himself, taking someone else’s life, he knows she will never be able to.

And besides, killing Edgar was never part of the plan.

So he gives into his need to reach for her. “Betty, sweetheart-”

 _“Don’t,”_ she warns, eyes still glued to Edgar. “Don’t you dare start being condencending to me, Jones.”

“Jones?” Jughead wants to laugh. “Hey baby, I’m kinda liking this last name thing.”

“Yeah, well,” Betty sighs, tightening her grip on the gun. “You have a great last name. Me... not so much.”

“We’re getting off topic Betts,”

“Let me take care of this Jug,” she says, and he knows her well enough to listen for the slight plea in her tone of voice. She’s actually ready to beg. “Let me end this, once and for all.”

“Baby...”

_“Jug,”_

“Betty,” carefully, he holds a hand out, reaching for the gun. “No.”

“Jug-”

“This isn’t you Betts,” he reminds her, gently. “This isn’t you.”

Betty laughs a little. “Oh, but it’s _you?”_

“Yes,” Jughead admits, because he can’t lie to her. He won’t. “You know it is sweetheart, does it make you love me any less?”

She turns her head just enough to meet his eyes. “Of course not.”

Her brows raise. Concern floods through her features, but the gun stays trained on Edgar.

“Are you saying...” Her fingers begin to shake, inching closer to the trigger. “That if I do this, you won’t...”

He grabs her arm, quickly, roughly.

“Absolutely fucking _not,_ Elizabeth,” he growls.

Betty relaxes.

“I know it’s my fault you’re having all the insecurities Betts,” Jughead sighs. “but you and I are going to have a serious talk about _just_ how much I love you when we get home. Now, give me the gun.”

She doesn’t. He’s not surprised.

“Betty-”

“Damn it Jughead, I _told_ you not to be condescending!”

“Fuck Betty,” he shakes his head. “I’m not being condescending baby, I’m _not_ , or... I’m not trying to be, I swear.”

“Then what _are_ you trying to do?”

“What I’ve been trying to do for the last fucking year!” Jughead snaps. “Betty, I’m trying to _save_ you.”

* * *

Save her.

From becoming _exactly_ like him, or doing something he knows she’ll probably live to regret?

Maybe it’s a little bit of both. Either way, she loves him.

But he can’t protect her from everything.

“Do you know why they picked the word blue, Jug?” Betty asks, somewhat sweetly. “Do you know why?”

His grip on her arm tightens.

“You know I don’t understand _any_ of this, baby,”

“Because it’s the color of your eyes,” she whispers, and it’s the most fucked up thing she’s ever had to say. “It’s the color of your beautiful eyes, and they wanted to take that away from me too.”

* * *

_Fuck._

He doesn’t know what else to say other than _fuck_ , so he says it at least three times. He’s not really keeping track.

* * *

“Betty,”

He recovers from his initial shock and tugs her back towards his chest, but her feet remain firmly planted, even with his strength in the pull.

“Betty-”

“We could end this,” she mutters, low enough for only him to hear. _“I_ could end this right now.”

He shakes his head.

“Not like this angel,”

Her hands are still shaking. “What, do you wanna be the one to pull the trigger?”

“No,”

_“What?”_

“Betty, the ultimate revenge isn’t to kill him.”

The gun lowers slightly.

* * *

“Baby, listen to me,” he pleads. “Give me the gun.”

Hands trembling, it lowers a little more, but she still shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Jug, _please,”_

“This isn’t you,” Jughead says. “Betty, I know you, this isn’t you baby, you’re better than this.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“...So are you, Jug.”

He wants to believe that. He really does.

But he’s just as ready to kill Edgar as she is, and if she gives him the gun, he might actually do it.

Maybe she knows that, because her grip tightens, just a little.

“Baby-”

“Jug... if I walk away from this, so do you,”

“What?”

* * *

Betty smiles at him, but it’s foreign, full of tension. “You heard me.”

“Baby,”

“You know I’ll stand by you through everything,” she whispers, and for a moment, they’re the only two people in the room. No Serpents, no Edgar, not even her mother. “I’ll always love you Jug. You could kill someone right in front of me for no reason at all, and I’d still love you, but if you want me to walk away from this unscathed, untainted, then you’re walking away with me.”

She wants to kill him, the man that has used and abused her, the man that tried to use her to ultimately cause Jughead’s demise, but he’s right.

As much as she hates him, she’ll never be able to live with the blood on her hands.

* * *

“...Jug?”

* * *

“Give me the gun Betts,” he says again, and there’s a finality to his tone. “Give me the gun, and let’s go home. Let’s go home baby.”

She’s sobbing as he pries the gun from her hand, tucks it into the waistband of his jeans, behind his leather jacket, wraps her up in a protective embrace.

“Jones,” Sweet Pea mutters. “Cops are here.”

* * *

Almost everyone is arrested.

The few children, perhaps the only other ones innocent in this mess, are rounded up, handed over to the custody of the state.

He hopes there’s something better out there for him.

* * *

She’s numb, cold. She can’t stop shaking.

Jughead’s jacket is wrapped around her, as is his arm, and while it’s a comfort, she can barely feel him.

She should have killed him.

And she hates herself for thinking that.

Is she a bad person, for wanting, _still_ wanting to end the life of the man she hates the most? Even if she didn’t actually go through with it?

Maybe, maybe not.

“Baby,”

She’s being turned suddenly, his large, warm, calloused hands cradling her face, forcing her gaze to his.

“I’ve got you, okay?”

* * *

It’s the only thing he can think of to say.

* * *

It’s the _perfect_ thing to say.

Betty wraps her arms around his waist, buries her face into his chest.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”

* * *

“I love you, Elizabeth Kaylee Cooper,” Jughead vows. His fingers tangle in her hair, settles just behind her ears. “You’re it for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much baby, I’ll love you till I die.”

* * *

His words are both alarming, and exactly what she needs to hear.

“Don’t go anywhere any time soon, okay?”

He smirks, _smirks_ , and she does her best to revel in the normalcy of it all despite where they’re currently standing. “The only place I’m going baby, is _home_ , and you bet your ass you’re coming with me.”

Jughead withdraws from her somewhat, just enough to interlace their fingers.

“You ready to-”

The entrance to the compound swings open yet again, and her eyes automatically meet the gaze of her mother.

_No._

Alice.

Alice is no longer her mother. Maybe she never was.

“...Can you give us a minute?”

* * *

Jughead is quick to grab her arm.

“No.”

His possessive streak is showing. He doesn’t care.

“Jug-”

“Betty.”

She lets go of his hand.

“Juggie,” Betty stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “It’s okay.”

“Betts-”

“It’s okay,” she says again. “She can’t hurt me anymore. Let me end this. Let me say goodbye.”

* * *

_Let me say goodbye._

He will never deny her anything.

* * *

He presses a palm to her cheek, kisses her softly.

“I’ll be right here,” he tells her.

* * *

“Elizabeth-”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Betty snaps.

Alice looks horrified by her language. She can hear Jughead, and several other Serpents snigger behind her, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Sweet Pea and Fangs exchange what looks like a ten dollar bill.

Evidently, they still like to bet on just how much she curses.

She makes a mental note to kick both of their asses later, and they’ll fucking let her if Jughead has anything to say about it.

He’ll never deny her anything. She loves him for that.

“All the years I spent trying to turn you into a proper lady,” Alice sneers. “and the Serpents have to go and fuck it all up- _Elizabeth!”_

The two officers on either side of her don’t object to the slap. Jughead doesn’t try to stop her.

She blows him a kiss over her shoulder.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Betty can’t help but laugh. “First of all, _never_ , and I mean **_never_** insult the Serpents. Do it again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Her jaw falls. “Elizabeth-”

“Secondly, my name is _Betty_ , mom, _Bet-ty_ , not Elizabeth, Betty,” she casts another glance at Jughead, waiting somewhat patiently behind her. “Jug can call me _Elizabeth_ if he’s feeling serious, or kinda kinky...”

 _“Elizabeth_ ,” Alice hisses. “if that beanie wearing cad defiled you...”

She laughs again. “Don’t worry _mother_ , I was left feeling _extremely_ satisfied.”

_“Elizabeth-”_

“What?”

Alice stares at her, for several long, unforgiving seconds.

“You are not my daughter,” she says finally.

Betty snorts. “You’re telling me.”

“Elizabeth-”

“I’m not your daughter,” she repeats, and it’s suddenly like a weight has been lifted high off her shoulders. “and you are not my mother.”

Alice might have given birth to her, might have raised her, _more or less_ , probably less, for seventeen years, but she had also ignored her, tried to make her perfect, stole her from the man she loves.

And Betty can never forgive her for that.

For once in her life, Alice chooses to remain silent.

“But don’t worry about me Alice,” Betty whispers, and her heart hurts a little more, because she knows her mother has. “I finally have the family I always wanted.”

Jughead holds his hand out, like he knows it’s time to go.

She casts one last look at the woman in the homemade dress, cuffs wrapped around her wrists, an officer on either side of her.

“Goodbye, Alice,”

* * *

He takes her hand, leads her away, lets Toni drive yet again as he sits in the backseat with her in his arms, holds her while she cries.

He’s pretty close to breaking, too.

* * *

And she knows that.

* * *

The drive back to the Wyrm is entirely silent.

She feels her eyes growing heavy, doesn’t object when he lifts her into his arms, carries her up the stairs to _their_ apartment.

She can’t fall asleep though. Not yet.

* * *

“Jug,”

He almost doesn’t hear her, too lost in the last time he carried her through this very door, how bruised she was, how tiny she seemed in his arms.

How broken they both were, and maybe they still are.

“Juggie,”

“What?” His eyes cut to her face. “Sorry baby, what did you say?”

Betty’s lips form a thin line.

“We need to talk,”

* * *

They end up in the bedroom, but not for the reasons either one of them wants.

She’s wearing his t-shirt, comforter strewn across her bare legs. One arm is hooked around his neck as he sits silently beside her.

“Jug,” she whispers. “You need to let go.”

* * *

A single tear falls from his eyes at her words, and then another.

Her arms wrap around him, cradling his head to her chest, and he clings to her with everything he has.

“Juggie...”

“I was scared Betts,” Jughead whispers. “I was so fucking scared that I was gonna lose you, and _I can’t lose you.”_

Her grip tightens.

It’s good, he realizes. It feels good to cry.

“You won’t,” Betty says, after a moment. “You’re never gonna lose me Jug, I’m right here.”

* * *

He hesitates.

“...Do you promise?”

She smiles.

“I promise,” she tells him. “Juggie, have faith in me, okay? In _us._ I’m _here_. I’m here, and I’m yours, and you’re mine, and I love you, god, I love you. I’m all in. I’m never going anywhere.”

* * *

“I love you Betts,”

“Jughead Jones,” Betty laughs. “I love you.”

* * *

So maybe they are a little broken, or a lot broken, but they’re also _together_ , and they’re stronger together than they ever could be apart.

She loves him, he loves her, and it’s as simple as that.

* * *

It’s only when her eyes grow heavy again does he shift, pulling her down onto the bed beside him.

Betty wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hold.

“Juggie?”

He’s just as tired.

“...Yeah baby?”

She curls into him.

“What are we going to do?” Betty whispers.

He laughs. She’s not really sure why.

And then both his arms are around her, and he kisses the top of her head, holds her close.

“Live our lives,” Jughead answers, after a moment. “We’re gonna live our lives baby, and live them to the fucking fullest.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE END
> 
> And I am so sad :(
> 
> Thank you to everyone for going on this journey with me, for listening to me write a story about someone not being themselves without another person. I loved writing this story.
> 
> And I love you all, more than I can even fucking say. Thank you so much, for everything.

* * *

They start with the loft.

Archie’s over nearly day. Sometimes he brings Veronica, and when she and Betty aren’t debating the colors they chose for the walls, she’s yapping his ear off, getting on his nerves, and it’s exactly like old times in their booth at Pop’s.

It makes Betty laugh as he rolls his eyes at her from halfway across the apartment, and weirdly enough, Veronica doesn’t annoy him as much as she used to.

He’s okay with it.

* * *

Archie tries to teach her how to use a sander.

Somehow she misses, ends up with a cut on her left hand that has Jughead fussing over her for the rest of the afternoon, suspending their renovation plans till the next day.

She doesn’t mind.

The care he shows towards her, towards others now that he’s back to the Jughead she’s always known and loved, more or less, gives her hope that someday, in a few years, because she’s only eighteen, and he’s only nineteen, he’ll show that same compassion to their children.

She has no doubt about it.

* * *

Betty still has nightmares sometimes.

It’s to be expected. She’s been through hell and back, and on the days where the circles beneath her pretty green eyes are just a little darker, he insists on spending hours in bed, helping her catch up on sleep.

 _He_ falls asleep after comforting her from her countless tossing and turning, wakes up a while later to find those pretty green eyes wide open, staring right at him.

“Baby?”

“...What if I told you I wanted to see a therapist?”

Jughead sweeps a hand across his face, sits up, supporting his weight with his elbows. “Okay,”

Betty blinks. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” groaning, he throws himself back down, grabs hold of her hips, pulls her up to straddle his torso. _“Okay.”_

She takes a deep breath.

“What if I said I wanted you to come with me?”

He sighs, still exhausted. Threading his fingers through the tangled hair at the nape of her neck, be brings her down on top of him, cradles her head in the junction of his shoulder.

“Okay,”

Betty lets herself relax against him, but stays alert. “Why do you keep saying _okay?”_

Jughead laughs. “Well what else should I say, angel mine? You wanna see a therapist, you want _us_ to see a therapist, then okay, that’s what we’ll do.”

He scratches her scalp, fingers moving in what he hopes are soothing circles. Her worries are what’s keeping her awake, so he’s going to squash them. No matter how long it takes.

Her breathing starts to even out. “Really?”

“Yes _really,”_ he kisses her forehead. “Maybe it’s time you realized Betts... I’d do anything for you, and I do mean anything.”

There’s the softest hint of a smile on her face as her eyes flutter. He resumes playing with her hair, falls asleep with the golden strands between his fingers, his beloved snoring soundly on top of him, and he’s never been happier.

* * *

She’s so fucking nervous.

They take the car, not wanting to interrupt what is supposed to be a safe, therapeutic space, but Jughead doesn’t even have time to get his seat belt on before she’s grabbing his hand, squeezing it hard so she won’t dig her nails in.

He brings their conjoined hands up to his lips, brushes them across her skin, squeezes back.

“I’ve got you, okay?”

It’s exactly what she needs to hear.

* * *

The waiting room isn’t much better.

The receptionist has long nails that clack against the keyboard of her computer as she types, the phone is constantly ringing and each new sound seems to set her off more.

She wants nothing more than to curl up onto Jughead’s lap and disappear.

Both hands are wrapped around a single one of his, face hidden into the crook of his neck while he rests his head on top of hers.

* * *

They’re brought into the room by the therapist herself, Dr. Miriam Rodgers, who gestures for them both to sit on the couch across from her overstuffed, intimidating chair.

Jughead keeps Betty close, even as Dr. Rodgers gently reminds him that they are in a _safe space._

Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. He doesn’t know what to think.

He’s only there for two reasons, one, because Betty asked him to, and he’ll do anything for her, and two...

It would be nice, great even, to _not_ feel how he’s been feeling in the year since she’s been gone.

* * *

Therapy, Jughead, quickly realizes, is a good thing.

* * *

Betty talks, she talks and talks, and it’s hard to listen, but he does. He’s heard most of it before, the rare moments he’s really gotten her to open up.

It’s still hard to stomach, everything his girl has been through, though he keeps one thing in mind as his arm stays locked around her for support.

Betty is a _fighter._

Betty won.

* * *

Jughead gets his turn, and she can’t keep the tears from her eyes as she listens to hat, exactly, the man she loves went through in her absence.

The fear, the agony, the pain, the suffering, everything _she_ went through at the hands of Edgar and his deluded Farmies, and so much more.

He’s broken, just like she is.

She rubs his back, listens intently, doesn’t say a word as not to interrupt.

It’s the only thing she can do, listen, understand and accept, and she does. She always will.

Yes, Jughead Jones is a broken man, but he’s the most beautiful man she has ever seen.

He’s a warrior, a leader, a wonderful person, and whether he wants to believe it or not, he’s going to come out of this alive.

He’s winning.

He’s won.

* * *

They stay for over two hours.

Dr. Rodgers is very kind, patient, understanding, everything a therapist _should_ be. Betty hugs her goodbye, and Jughead does too before they leave her office, walk back to the car hand-in-hand.

He’s not sure if they’ll come back, but he’s definitely not opposed to it.

* * *

“Juggie,”

She waits till they’re home, parked back behind the Wyrm to speak, and as he pulls the keys from the ignition, a gentle hand comes up to cradle his face.

“You okay, baby?”

“I think so,” Betty whispers. “Hey, I need you to do something for me, okay?”

“Anything,” his fingers wrap around hers.

“Promise me...” She leans forward so their foreheads are touching. “Promise me that together, we’re going to figure out a way to let all of this go and find a way to be happy.”

He can do that. He _will_ do that. He’ll promise her all of that and more.

Sliding his own hand through her loose hair, across the back of her neck, he pulls her in for a kiss that has both of them breathing heavily when they finally break apart for air.

“Betts,”

“Y-Yeah?”

Jughead grins. “I promise.”

* * *

The loft comes together in a matter of weeks.

When she teases him, tells him that it’s _mostly_ thanks to Archie, he grabs her, not caring that they’re in the middle of the bar, or that the rest of the Serpents are hanging around, hoists her over his shoulder and carries her back up to the bedroom, where he _really_ shows her who’s the man.

She can’t help it. She loves getting him all worked up.

* * *

They get rid of the tub, add a shower, get a new sink. The kitchen is updated, repainted and equipped with appliances that actually _work._

They finally get rid of that old couch, replace it with one that doesn’t hurt their backs.

Betty insists Sweet Pea take it, and his friend, never one to turn down anything that’s _free_ , eagerly accepts. It takes only an hour for Sweet Pea to return to the loft, begging Betty to _take it back._

She sticks her tongue out at him, says something about not being allowed to return _gifts_ , has Jughead laughing so hard, tears fill his eyes.

It’s payback, he realizes, for betting against her that day at the Farm.

He’s almost scared to see what she has in store for Fangs.

Surprisingly, Sweet Pea ends up keeping the couch, and neither of them are really sure why.

Hey, if he wants a sore back, he can have a sore back.

* * *

A snake.

She puts an actual _(rubber)_ snake into the bathroom while Fangs is taking a shower, makes him scream like a little girl.

He’s a good sport about it, but he and Sweet Pea don’t back down from betting against her, so Betty doesn’t stop with the pranks.

Things are exactly how they should be.

* * *

She catches him one night.

It’s not like they’re actively _trying_ to hide what they’ve done. Someone has fucked with the Serpents, _his family_ , so they’re about to get fucked with in return.

He’s behind Fangs and Joaquin as they dragged the man’s heavily drugged body towards the basement. The bar is supposed to open in less than an hour, Toni is already setting up.

He would know that sharp intake of breath anywhere.

Jughead whirls to face her, closes the distance between them in a single stride, grabs her by the shoulders. “Baby-”

The scene must be all too familiar to her.

Her eyes widen.

“Juggie...”

“Betts-”

“Tell...” She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “Tell me you have a good reason and I’ll believe you. I’ll always believe you.”

* * *

They sit at the bar, fingers laced together.

And he talks.

He talks about the man, George or Jerry or John, she doesn’t know, doesn’t care, talks about how he’s been physically abusing the young daughter of a fallen Serpent. His stepdaughter. She’s only six.

Her blood runs cold.

She asks if he’s going to kill him.

Jughead says no.

So Betty squeezes his hand, tells him to give that bastard a taste of his own medicine.

* * *

Jughead kisses her soundly, heads down to the basement to take care of business.

* * *

Yes, he lives in a dark world, has probably participated in things she never wants to know about, but she’ll never run away.

Betty Cooper knows Jughead Jones, knows him better than anyone ever could.

He wouldn’t do anything without a good reason. He wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t for the betterment of his family.

She loves him. She’s always loved him. She’ll always love him.

* * *

They throw that housewarming party he promised her in which feels like so long ago, invite everyone they care about.

Their friends toast to their happiness, to _them._

* * *

Little by little, they find their way back to normal.

* * *

Jughead corners her one afternoon, demands a plan for her upcoming birthday.

She’s flustered, helping Toni serve drinks because they’re understaffed, but he won’t let her pass, grabbing the empty tray from her hands, picking her up, setting her precariously on the edge of it, stands between her open legs.

“Betts,”

“Jug-”

 _“Betts,”_ he laughs, sounding tired. “C’mon angel, I’ve been wracking my brain for weeks. Help me out a little, please?”

“I... Um...”

“Please baby? _Anything._ Any little thing.”

“I... Uh... Fireworks!”

She’s not sure why she says it, but he seems satisfied enough, helps her down from the table, takes the next round of drinks even though she’s never seen him wait on _anyone_ in all the years she’s been hanging around the Wyrm.

* * *

There’s fireworks the day she turns nineteen.

Well, it’s nighttime really, they’re at the quarry with everyone they care about. There’s been cake, presents, singing offkey, well wishes and everything she could possibly ask for.

She’s never had a better birthday.

Jughead waits till it gets dark, spins her ‘round to face him, kisses her in a perfectly synchronized movement as the sky lights up.

It’s absolutely perfect.

* * *

“Why fireworks?” Jughead teases later.

Fangs has a fire going that the rest of them sit around, trading a few war stories. Betty is perched on his thigh, both his arms around her.

She blushes.

* * *

She’s caught and they both know it.

Betty lied to him earlier. She knows _exactly_ why she asked for fireworks, and there’s no use in lying to him, so she tells him the truth.

It’s what she felt the first time she kissed him. Fireworks. It’s the one word she could use to describe it.

He taunts her for being cheesy, but by the way his eyes light up, she knows he loves it just as much as he does.

* * *

If she wants fireworks, she can have fireworks.

Truthfully, it’s the same thing he felt the first time he ever got to kiss her. It’s the perfect description.

* * *

The party is wrapping up, or so she thinks.

* * *

He’s holding her hand as they stare out at the water, tells her not to feel guilty for not helping to clean up because it’s her birthday, and she shouldn’t be doing any of the dirty work.

Betty shoves him playfully.

But Jughead looks seriously suddenly, gazing back at her, and her heart hammers inside of her chest.

_What the hell is going on?_

“Betts,”

“Y-Yeah?”

“If you could have one wish... what would it be?”

She doesn’t have to think of an answer.

Her grip tightens on his hand. “To not be a Cooper anymore.”

Suddenly, Jughead is down on one knee, ring in hand.

“I know my last name isn’t very lucky either,” he admits, looking nervous. “but... maybe you’d want to be a Jones?”

* * *

Betty cries, says _yes_ in the same breath, throws her arms around his neck as he picks her up to spin her around, and cries a little more.

* * *

They don’t wait.

Why should they? They’ve already spent a year apart, they don’t want to waste another second.

* * *

It’s not an elaborate ceremony.

It’s kind of hastily thrown together, something that leaves their friends scrambling, but they have dresses, they’ve got tuxes and rings, but more importantly, they’ve got each other, and that’s all they need.

* * *

Jughead announces a new inspiration around the same time, sincerely asks if it’s okay to write about what has happened.

Betty gives him her full consent.

She doesn’t want anyone else telling her story.

* * *

Their vows are simple, but beautiful, words spoken about how not time or distance can ever keep them apart.

* * *

“Really?” Betty demands, smiling as he holds _just a little tighter_ to her hand. “We could be leaving for our honeymoon right now, but you want to ease drop on our very drunk friends?”

Jughead grins. “Oh like you don’t love it, Nancy Drew.”

With a smile of her own, she peers over his shoulder, smiles at the sight of him in his tux, beanie happily in place.

They did it. They’re _married._

She is no longer Elizabeth Cooper, she’s Elizabeth Kaylee Jones, and she couldn’t be happier.

Their friends are seated around the bar, drinking more even though their entire wedding was more or less one gigantic rendition of the parties they attended in high school.

“I’m just so happy,” Archie blubbers.

Veronica dabs at her eyes with a tissue, rubs his back as she nods in agreement. “After everything they’ve been through... they made it. They really made it.”

“We all knew they’d get here,” Toni says.

“It was simply a matter of time,” Cheryl agrees. She wraps Toni up in her arms, nearly swaying off the stools they’re both perched on.

“They deserve to be happy,” Kevin mutters.

Sweet Pea nods. “They’re _going_ to be happy.”

“Together,”

“Betty and Jughead...” Fangs sighs. “They’re not themselves without the other. You know, when this first happened... when we first got her back, I thought that maybe Jughead was going to barge in there, rescue his damsel in distress and never look back, but... Betty isn’t a damsel in distress, she definitely needed the rescue, but she’s not helpless either. Jug was so lost, and Betty was so broken... They... they saved each other. That’s all I can say.”

Cheryl smiles. There’s red lipstick on her teeth.

“That’s all there _is_ to say. They’re Betty and Jughead.”

And it’s as simple as that.


End file.
